


As The Cold Wind Blows

by BehindTheCorner



Category: The Walking Dead (Telltale Video Game), The Walking Dead (Video Game), The Walking Dead (Video Games), The Walking Dead Game
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst and Tragedy, F/F, F/M, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Multi, PTSD, Slow Romance, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2018-10-21 11:56:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 174,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10684800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BehindTheCorner/pseuds/BehindTheCorner
Summary: Four months since the outbreak, Charlotte had ran with a group of bandits in order to survive and give a life for her younger brothers. After the death of their leader, and the rise of a sociopath that threatened the lives of those she loved, Charlotte made the decision to leave and make it on her own in the world. Starved, alone, and responsible for the lives of two teenage boys going through puberty, she must find supplies to keep them going.Soon, she finds herself in a group of a couple expecting the arrival of their unborn baby, and a young girl that they adopted as their own after her guardian died. Following the story, she learns that there is more to life than just surviving, and face up to the mistakes she made in the past.Eventual Nick/OC.This is a rewrite of my old fanfic of the same name, along with Charlotte's character being somewhat rewritten as well.





	1. Leaving

The world had truly gone to shit. That thought ran through Charlotte's mind as she stood there, one in a group of six as they surrounded this lone survivor. The young man looked no older than herself, blood dripping from his broken nose and stained his thin tank top, the greyed fabric dyed a deep red. With his hands up, he stared up at her, shifting his gaze to the others with fear clear in his eyes. The whole situation went south real fast, she thought they were just gonna shake the guy for his supplies. In and out, just like it had been the four months since the plague started. One of the guys in her group, Logan, had other ideas.

She knew never to trust him. The guy was a serious fucked up piece of shit, almost borderline sociopath, but he was a close friend to the leader of their whole group, so they all had to deal with him. It was Logan that gave the poor guy the broken nose, and standing there with a gun pointed at the cowering survivor, he gestured for one of the others to search through the backpack they found on him.

The girl searching through it, Samantha, was just as unnerved by the whole experience as Charlotte was. However, she knew how to hide her feelings better, and narrowed green eyes peered up from the examined bag, the girl throwing it to another of their friends as she explained. "There's nothing in it. Let's just get outta here."

"Nah," Logan rejected, turning his attention back to the frightened man. "Ain't nobody able to survive out here on their own. You got your friends back there?"

"N-No, I'm alone." The young survivor replied, shaking his head as he tried to back away, panicking when Logan moved forward. "P-Please, I'm telling the truth! I haven't got anything you want, so let me go-!"

He was cut off with a punch to the side of his face, a harsh cry of pain coming from him as he fell over, landing on his side whilst Logan circled him. With his pistol in hand, he was almost like a vulture, walking around his prey whilst the others watched, some of the bandits laughing at the show whilst Charlotte stood there in silence, pitying the cowering victim as he tried to make himself smaller. It was cowardice. Six against one, it wasn't very fair for the man, but she reminded herself why she was putting up with this.

Her family needed her, and if she had be a cowardly bandit to put food in their bellies, then she would have to bite the bullet and do as she was told. Logan, on the other hand, was having the time of his life, grabbing the man's shoulder and flipping him on his back, peering down at him as he joked to one of the male bandits. "Behind the broken nose, he's quite a catch, don't you think?"

"You really are a fag, Logan." The man replied, shaking his head whilst the bandana wrapped around his lower face shifted, his eyes unseen from behind a pair of sunglasses. Charlotte glanced at him from the corner of her eyes, before Logan's almost flamboyant gestures caught her attention once more.

"Now, now, let's not be homophobic about this. You can't exactly be picky during these times, Joshua." Pushing his foot into the man's chest, he glanced over at Charlotte and smirked. "Isn't that right, Charlie? I mean, you and Sam here enjoy warming each other's bedrolls, huh?"

"That's none of you fucking business." She spat, crossing her arms as she retorted. "I don't see anyone keeping an asshole like you warm at night."

"Oh! The viper bites back!" he yelled, laughing boisterously with his foot still pressed into the victim's chest, causing his breathing to become more and more difficult. Rubbing underneath his nose while sniffing, his hand waved the pistol nonchalantly. "Now, erm, correct me if I'm wrong but weren't you and Josh an item once?"

That struck deep. Not even looking at Joshua, she could practically feel the air grow colder, fright twisting her gut as she tried to keep a stoic expression. Choosing her words carefully, she slowly replied. "That was nothing."

"Was he that bad in bed?" Logan suddenly asked, his gaze shifting to an annoyed Joshua as he quickly backtracked. "Come on! We're practically a family now, this is what we do! You know, let me tell you a secret, come on, it'll be a good one."

None of the group seemed interested in listening to what the sociopath had to say, but that didn't stop him as he finally lifted his foot, stepping over the survivor on the floor as he gasped for breath, rolling onto his side coughing violently. Walking closer to Samantha, he seemed pleased with her reaction, the woman moving closer to Charlotte for protection. Shooting him a heated glare, Charlotte said nothing as he revealed. "Sam, does our sweet Charlie here know about you and Joshua? Huh, like how you and him were getting real cosy the other night?"

"That's enough, Logan." Nathan snapped. He was one of the eldest in the group, late forties, and he looked as much as well. His wrinkled eyes narrowed as he frowned, moving to put himself between Logan and the two women. Putting his hands up, he backed away, noticing the survivor trying to sneak away whilst the bandits were fighting amongst themselves.

Walking casually towards him, the lunatic grabbed his ankle and dragged the survivor back, scolding him like a child whilst he clawed at the ground. "Now, didn't your mother tell you it's rude to just walk away from a conversation?"

"He hasn't got anything on him, Logan!" Charlotte snapped, moving from behind Nathan as she neared him, grabbing tightly onto his wrist as she continued. "Let's just get outta here. The walkers aren't gonna stay away forever."

Logan paused, his grip still on the man's ankle as he stared at charlotte, the rest of the group staring in shock. None of them may have liked Logan very much, but that didn't mean he didn't put the fear in them, especially if you try and tell him what to do. Wrenching her hand off him, she yelped in pain as he twisted it, forcing her to her knees as she tried to fight him, desperate to free herself from the agonising grip. The others didn't come to her aid, Nathan stopping Samantha from getting involved with his arm out in front of her, the two watching with concern as the attacker neared his face to hers.

"If you try to tell me what to do again," he started, his voice dropping to a chilling tone as he twisted her wrist more, watching her pained face staring at him. "You're gonna regret it."

"You're gonna break my wrist!" she quietly gasped, trying to stop tears from forming as the pain traveled up her arm, the feeling like electricity frying every single one of her nerves. Heavily breathing, she glanced at the survivor sitting here, his ankle released yet he was too terrified to move, sweat drenched brown hair falling in front of his face.

"Y'all do well to remember who's in charge." With that warning, he released her wrist, walking away as she just knelt there, grasping her sore wrist as she tried to get her breathing under control. She was frightened, but she kept it well underneath her anger as she just glared at the floor, listening as Logan lectured her. "You're really trying to piss me off nowadays, Charlie. Do I have to remind you exactly why we're so desperate to find supplies now? Because your fucking useless brothers, extra mouths to feed whilst they sit on their asses back at camp!"

"They're just kids!" she shot back, shaking her head as she tried to excuse them. "Me and Elizabeth have done _everything_ for this group, and she paid the price for it! They're all I have left…"

"Here, you want a fucking tissue? Those boys are fourteen years old, it's time they started contributing to our survival, and the boss will be hearing this when we get back." Logan threatened. Charlotte's heart stopped, her blue eyes staring at the ground while she held her wrist close to her. She couldn't think clearly. Elizabeth, her older sister, did everything to protect them, and she died for it. She couldn't let her death be in vain, not for the group.

"Logan's right, Charlotte." Joshua sighed, backing the angered bandit up. "We can't take any loads, not in this group. You and Liz knew that when you guys joined."

"That's not fair. The only reason Liz died is because of you guys, we should cut Charlie some slac-" Samantha tried to defend her, but was cut off when Logan walked briskly over to her, his gun being waved around haphazardly.

"Ain't nobody fucking asked you, Sam!" he snarled, before going back to his jovial self. "Look, I get it, family matters and all that, but we gotta think about survivin'. We don't have food, we don't get to eat, and it all goes pear shape from there on out."

Spinning on his heel, he moved over to the survivor left sitting on the floor, passing Charlotte without even giving her another glance. Whimpering, he was dragged back over to the other bandits, and thrown to the floor while Logan just turned back around. The pained woman couldn't do anything when he wrenched her to her feet, grunting softly when his grip softened, the gun being pressed into her hands as he goaded her on. "Come on, then."

"What?" she asked, confused about what he wanted from her. The gun felt unnaturally heavy in her hands, the sickening feeling in her stomach as she stared down at the man, his bleeding face looking up at her pleadingly.

"We're done here. Don't wanna leave someone who we'll have to compete for supplies with." Logan explained, his hand grabbing hers as he forced her to aim. "You need a lesson? I can show you how it's done."

"This isn't funny, Logan!" Charlotte snapped, trying her best to fight against his superior strength. "Why do I have to do this?!"

"Don't be a fucking wimp. Just pull the trigger." He ordered, keeping her hands still as he waited for her to obey. Glancing at the others, she saw none coming to her rescue, Samantha watching with a saddened expression when Logan grunted, clicking his fingers in front of her face to bring her attention back to him. "None of these guys are gonna do it for you. You wanted in our group, you gotta do what we all gotta do. Now, pull the _fucking trigger._ "

Charlotte took in a shaky breath, turning her gaze from their leader to the survivor, holding his hands in front of his face to protect himself from any attacks. Quickly, she pulled the trigger, a bang ringing through the air as the body lurched backwards, slowly falling to the ground. Blood pooled from the bullet wound in the middle of his forehead, his glassy eyes staring at the sky whilst the sun began to set, dyeing it blue, red, orange and yellow.

Everyone was silent, Logan the most pleased looking one out of all of them as he patted Charlotte on the back, ignoring the looks of displeasure at what she had to do. Walking away from her, he triumphantly carried on. "That was fun. Let's head back, the boss'll be pissed with what little we got."

The others followed after him, one by one leaving Charlotte as she just stood there, staring at the still bleeding corpse with a stoic stare. It was such a waste. After the months of stealing and murdering, she thought she could get over it, but she was wrong. It still felt horrible, and doing that just made her self-loathing even worse. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Samantha walking towards her, brushing a single blonde hair from in front of her face. Ignoring her, she just stood there whilst her girlfriend softly spoke up. "We better get moving. The walkers'll be coming here because of the gunshot."

"I just… I didn't know this man, none of us did, so why? Why did we do this?" Charlotte asked, shoving the gun in the back of her waistband.

"I don't know, but it was Logan that made you. We just gotta keep our heads down, not draw attention, otherwise he might turn against your brothers." Samantha warned, pulling the other from the corpse as she added. "We need to go."

Not saying another word, she followed after the blonde survivor, sparing one last look at the corpse before she carried on walking. The others were quite ahead from them, unable to hear them if they talked, but at that moment, Charlotte just wanted to go to bed. Her stomach growled loudly, her hand pressing against her thin polo shirt, her eyebrows furrowing in frustration as she wished she had some food. When they got back to camp, she would have to worry about rationing, and most likely go another night without food.

The cities they scavenged whilst travelling Texas only had so many supplies, and four months in almost all the food was gone. That was when Aaron, their leader, decided to pack up and travel east, hoping that the other states held something better for them. The group, going sixteen strong, needed a lot of food and water to keep moving, and she watched some of her friends die on the travels. Not all of them were taken by the dead.

Quietly, she heard Samantha whisper to her, nudging her with an elbow. "You hungry too?"

"Yeah. There's not enough food for all of us, but I gotta put Dylan and Mason before me." She sighed, removing her hand from his stomach as she added. "It's what Liz had to do, wasn't it?"

"She was a helluva person. Sometimes, I wish I went on that job instead of her. She might still be alive." Samantha confessed, guilt evident in her face as she carried on walking, staring up at the group ahead of them. Something about her body language wasn't right, and Charlotte didn't have long before she pulled something out of her jacket pocket.

Raising an eyebrow, surprise replaced the tiredness she was feeling when she saw Samantha pull out a candy bar, her face serious as she explained. "I took this from the bag when no one was looking. If you don't get anything from rationing tonight, you ain't gonna last much longer. Please, just to give me some peace of mind."

"If the others find out you've been keeping supplies from them, they'll kill you." Charlotte explained, even though she took the candy bar from her. Her pockets in her jeans weren't large enough to conceal it, so she kept it in her waistband as well, pulling her shirt over to completely hide it. It would be awkward walking with it in her jeans waistband, but she couldn't risk being caught.

"I don't care." Samantha rejected, happy that she took the food. "If it means that you and your brothers can eat, I'll gladly take any punishment."

"I just don't wanna lose you. Promise me, this is the last thing you steal for me." Charlotte pressed, keeping her gaze on the group in front of them. Nodding in response, she smiled as she kissed her girlfriend softly, her voice gaining a softer tone as she finished. "Good…"

With that, they walked the rest of the way back to camp in silence, their presence good enough for the other. The light was disappearing fast, the temperature dropping harshly as the wind picked up, blowing through the trees and hitting Charlotte full blast. Her thin clothes did little to stem off the cold, and she rubbed her arms in a desperate attempt to rid her limbs of the coldness. Samantha, in her thick jacket, was better off dealing with the weather, and she noticed the other's desperate actions.

Slowly, she removed her jacket, showing her black tank top underneath as she offered it to Charlotte, the latter politely rejecting the gesture. "You're gonna freeze without it."

"Yeah, but you're freezing right now. You ain't any good to me frozen to death." Samantha shot back, a playful smirk on her face as she kept the jacket out, waiting for Charlotte to accept it. Taking it, she smiled softly as she put in on, pulling the zipper up as she fully appreciated the warmth spreading back to her half-frozen limbs.

"Thanks. I promise, I'll get it back to you." She promised. Samantha just returned the promise with a knowing smile, before their attention was drawn to panicked shouting coming from the nearby camp. Confused, the two ran to catch up with the others, Charlotte feeling dread creeping in the pit of her stomach at the thought of what might happen. Her brothers could be in danger. She could lose them, and the thought of being alone terrified her. Determined, she skidded to a halt, Samantha by her side, as they stared at the scene.

The medic they had, Michelle, was working hard to stop Aaron's leg from bleeding, her hands already stained red with his blood. Logan glanced back at the two, saying nothing as he turned back around and loudly demanded answers, his tone harsh with the medic. "The fuck's happened here!?"

"Not now, Logan!" Michelle scolded, before Aaron's pained yells brought her attention back to him. Trying her best to keep him still, others around him to pin him down, she quickly explained to the returned group. "Aaron's… fuck, the whole mission just went up in smoke! The group we raided had more than we first thought. They started shooting at us, and one of the bullets lodged itself in his leg!"

"Fucking hell, you guys were meant to be careful!" Joshua scolded, staring down at Aaron's pained face as he shook his head. "Can you fix him?"

"Jesus Christ, Josh, just give me a fucking minute to breathe!" Michelle snapped. Charlotte kept away from the scene, not eager to get some of the doctor's harsh words. Michelle's temper was particularly nasty, and the fact that she was the only one in the group that was medically trained did nothing to help it. Every day, she saw as more injuries came in, and some were just not fixable. Having to put people out of their misery all the time changed the medic for the worst.

Turning around, she saw Mason standing there, shocked at the scene before him. Moving quickly to him, she kneeled in front of him and ordered him. "Mason, go back in the tent. I'll come for you and your brother when this is over, alright?"

"Are you alright?" he asked, concerned eyes matching her own colour. "You were gone for a long time. I was getting worried."

"I'm fine, it's just been a long day. Just do what I said, please." Nodding, he turned back and went into the tent the three of them share, zipping the door closed whilst she just kneeled there. With a saddened look, she stood back up when she heard Aaron continue to yell.

"Fuck, he's gonna start bringing attention to us!" Joshua snapped, standing over the injured man as the group began to panic. "Michelle, can't you just sedate him?!"

"We used the last of the goddamn sedatives yesterday!" she growled, a pair of tweezers in her hand as she added. "Can you shut the fuck up and let me do my work? Grace, I need you to keep the wound open whilst I fish the bullet out!"

Grace, a young child no older than Charlotte's brothers, nodded silently and moved closer to Aaron's bleeding leg, sticking her fingers in the wound and pulling it wider to allow Michelle access further in. The agony caused the leader to thrash about, the others trying their best to keep him still enough to allow the medic to work without the risk of injuring him further. With the tweezers fishing through the wound, her voice took a stern tone as she ordered the patient. "Aaron, I can't get the bullet out if you keep moving about!"

Staring up at her with sweat dripping down the side of his face, he could only clench his teeth together and nod, trying to contain his cries of agony as she carried on with her work. Standing there, Charlotte winced visibly as the bullet was finally pulled out, the metal casing covered in blood as it was thrown away, Michelle putting the tweezer on a metal dish on the ground. Wiping her forehead with her arm, she turned to Grace once more as she instructed her. "Grab the peroxide over there. I need to disinfect the wound before I stitch it up."

Turning around, she picked up a bottle from the same dish, handing it to the medic as she then grabbed thread and a needle. Charlotte couldn't keep watching it, but she was worried for the leader. Unlike Logan, Aaron was an alright guy, even if he didn't show much remorse for the stealing and murdering that he did. When she questioned him about it, he always made the same excuse.

 _We do what we do to survive. Out here, it's every man for himself, and we take what we need because that's the only way to get it._ Staring at him there, the words echoed in the back of her mind, and she wondered whether there was any truth to them. True, all the things they have in the group they had to take from other survivors, and she didn't know how long she would have lasted with her brothers on their own.

Maybe, she would have found another group, good people just trying to survive like them. On the other hand, she didn't know if she would have been able to trust them, not after all the things she seen and had to do. Aaron's wailing ceased, and he went limp as Michelle tried to stitch his wound up, the others noticing this and glancing at each other. Charlotte held her breath, unable to comprehend what was going on, and it took Michelle trying to stir him awake to finally drive home the graveness of their situation.

"Shit, Aaron? Aaron, wake up! You can't give up, not now!" she tried to rouse him, her face falling in grief as she finally collapsed. "Don't you leave me too! Please, anyone but you…"

"I'm sorry, Michelle…" Charlotte apologized, walking up to her and placed a hand on her shoulder, feeling it tense underneath her fingers. Placing two against Aaron neck, her fears were confirmed when she felt no pulse, closing her eyes in respect as she informed the others. "He's gone."

"No, I won't allow it!" she rejected, wrenching her arm free when Charlotte tried to pull her away. Cupping Aaron's pale face, tears started to fall down her face as she continued to whisper to him, placing her forehead against his as she mourned him. "I'm so sorry I couldn't save you…"

"We gotta make sure he won't come back." Nathan piped up, walking beside the corpse with his pocket knife in hand, flipping the blade out as he waited there. Michelle couldn't even look at him, her tanned face staring up at him with a begging look as she shook her head, her voice quiet as she finally replied.

"Nathan, I'm begging you… Please, don't do this." Charlotte could only stand there, an upset expression on her face when she glanced up at NAthan, the both of them sharing a knowing look as she breathed deeply.

Placing her hand back on Michelle's shoulder, she explained to her softly, trying her best not to upset the medic any more. "We have to do this. If we don't, he'll come back as one of them. You don't wanna see him like that, believe me."

Unable to reply, Michelle looked away from Charlotte, staring down at Aaron's almost peaceful looking face. Wiping her tears with her sleeve, she nodded, holding her hand out towards Nathan as she asked him. "Let me do it then. He was the love of my life… Please."

Without a single word, he nodded and passed her the weapon, before backing off. Holding the blade tightly in her hand, she bit her lower lip, breathing heavily through her nose as she begged the group. "Give me some room, to say goodbye."

Everyone agreed with her request, moving away from the tearful scene to give her some privacy. Following their lead, Charlotte turned around and started to make her way back to the tent, wondering how on earth she was going to explained Aaron's death to Mason and Dylan. They weren't close, not like they were with her and Liz, or even Samantha, but she knew that the leader cared about the boys. He took Charlotte under his wing, trying his best to make her see what was best for the group, and in turn her family, but he often made decisions on the benefit of the teenage boys as well.

Feeling a grip on her upper arm, she turned her head and spotted Samantha holding onto her, a concerned look on her tired face as she quietly revealed. "You know what this means, right?"

"Yeah, I do." She replied, glancing over at a sobbing Michelle whilst she added. "The group's gotta pick a new leader."

"Logan is the top candidate for the position. He was Aaron's second in command, and he's got a lot of our people here under his thumb." Samantha explained, looking behind her to see Logan walking over to the large tent in the middle of camp, most likely ready to discuss who was going to be the next leader of their group. Charlotte followed her stares as well, worried about their future as her girlfriend turned back around.

"I don't want to worry you. You've been through a lot these past few weeks but… you have to be ready. If Logan decides that your brothers are a detriment to our group's survival, they'll be in danger." With a pause, she glanced at the ground, lifting her gaze back up as she finished. "What are you gonna do?"

"I don't know yet, but I'll do anything to protect my brothers." Charlotte warned, turning back around as she walked over to her tent, leaving Samantha behind as she stood in front of the zipped up door. Pausing, she took in a deep breath and braced herself, zipping the door open and crawling inside.

The tent was not big enough for her to stand in, and only had one bit where two sleeping bags laid on the ground. One of them was unzipped, Mason sitting in it with a book in his hands, the lamp on next to him to give the inside of their shelter some light. Dylan, however, was sitting on the other end of the tent, staring straight at Charlotte as she entered. With hands sitting in his lap, he shook from the cold despite the thick navy blue jacket Charlotte found for him. Pausing, she stared at him, her voice concerned as she started. "You guys should be in bed."

"We were waiting for you." Dylan pointed out, his face tensing in annoyance as he interrogated her. "Where have you been?"

"Out on a supply run. We gotta find stuff for us to eat, Dylan." Charlotte scolded, annoyed with the tone he was taking with her. "And I told you to watch your tone."

"You're not my mom. We were sitting here for hours, wondering if you were even coming back! I hate it when you have to leave us." He muttered, his stare falling whilst Charlotte's glare lost most of its anger.

Shifting closer to him, she sat down in front of him, staring at the teen whilst he just continued to look at the ground. After a few moments of silence, she finally consoled him. "Hey… I know things are hard now, but we'll get through this. We always do."

"I know, it's just… when Liz died, I promised to step up and protect our family, but you seem to be doing it instead." Charlotte frowned at that, not out of anger or frustration, but because she knew how much Dylan loathed being useless. Slowly, she grabbed hold of his hands, noting how they were freezing to the touch, and pulled them onto her own lap, watching as Dylan finally glanced upwards at her.

With a half smile, she whispered to him. "It's because I'm the oldest. To look after you and your brother, that's my job."

Her brother smiled at that, seemingly at peace with her words, until he noticed her smile disappearing, having remembered what was going on just outside their tent, and the uncertainty that she faced with her family. Quietly, he glanced at the tent door, a frown on his face as he asked her. "What's wrong? I heard shouting outside, but Mason said that you ordered us to stay here."

"I ain't gonna lie to you, Dylan, but… Aaron got shot." She revealed, watching as his face fell in shock, noticing Mason lowering his book whilst he was listening, sharing the same expression as his twin. Slowly, she continued to explain. "He was gathering supplies, and someone shot him. He… he didn't make it. I'm sorry guys, I know how much you two cared about him."

Dylan said nothing, instead wrenching his hands away and standing up, storming out of the tent before Charlotte could even say anything to stop him. Watching him go, she stared at the open door sadly, sitting there in silence when Mason quietly piped up. "Who's gonna take charge now?"

"I don't know, but it might be Logan." Seeing him visibly panic at the thought of Logan being put in charge, she didn't know what to do to fix it. She was out of her depth, but she had to do something, she promised her parents and Liz that she would step up and be the adult they wanted her to be.

Before she could say anything, a shout came from outside the tent, one of the voices she immediately recognized to be Dylan's. Worried, she jumped to her feet and stumbled out of the tent, pushing the flap away as she looked outside, shocked at what she saw. Logan had Dylan in his grip, grabbing tight hold on the boy's lower arm as he struggled to free himself, yelling obscenities whilst the elder man looked annoyed. Rushing to his rescue, she was too late when he raised his hand, slapping Dylan across the face with a loud noise ringing through the air.

The young teen fell to the floor, his hand shot up to hold his reddened cheek, and he could only sit there whilst Charlotte rushed to his side. Gazing up at her with pained eyes, he flinched when she removed his hand, gritting her teeth at the sight of the flesh turning bright red. Glaring up at Logan, she loudly barked at him. "You don't raise another finger at my brother, you fucking piece of shit!"

"You should teach them some manners." He shot back, his voice chillingly low. "If he comes at me with that attitude, I'll rip his goddamn tongue out and feed it to the walkers."

Charlotte narrowed her eyes, her teeth bared as she demanded from him. "You can't tell me how to raise my family, Logan! Who do you think you are?!"

With a deep smirk, she felt her heart drop when he crossed his arms, smugly informing her. "Your new leader. We've all decided that I take up after Aaron, so I'm glad I ran into you actually."

Kneeling down, he was pleased with her reaction, moving herself between the sociopath and her stunned brother, keeping her heated stares on him as he continued. "Lighten up. Your brothers are gonna be useful to our group. Starting tomorrow, I'm gonna take them on another raid, show them the ropes."

"No, I won't allow it." She snapped, holding Dylan closer to her as she spat out. "I won't let you make them do the shit I've had to do these past few months. They're just kids."

"And if they don't do well tomorrow, they'll die as kids." Logan revealed, standing back up whilst Charlotte kneeled there, keeping Dylan's head pressed against her chest as her breathing quickened, finishing the conversation as he walked away. "Get some sleep, kiddos. You're gonna need it."

Dylan gripped tightly onto her jacket, his breathing quick and irregular as panic set in. Charlotte held him close, not releasing him when Samantha moved to her side. With a defeated look, she glanced at her loved one, noticing the saddened expression on her face, and she could only mutter to her. "I don't know what to do, Sam."

"It'll be alright, Charlie." She consoled, her voice dropping when she whispered. "I'll come to you tonight. I'll explain everything there, but please, pack your things."

She could only nod, before she helped her brother to his feet, hands on his shoulders when she guided him back to their tent. Samantha stood there, along with other people in their group that had witnessed the scene, before they went on with preparing themselves for the night. Some had guard duty, keeping the walkers and other survivors away whilst the others slept, but some were going to find it difficult tonight, especially after Aaron's death. Pushing the flap open, she allowed Dylan to enter the tent first, quickly following him and zipping the tent door back up.

Turning around, she watched as Dylan just crawled onto his bed roll that he shared with Mason, the latter staring at his twin's red cheek in shock. Glancing up at his older sister, he was silent when she shook her head, instead just sitting there with his brother lying down, facing the tent wall with his back to his siblings. Moving to her own bedroll, she sat down, not bothering to get inside the warm sleeping bag. Staring at the lamp, she was silent for a good few minutes, no one in the tent bothering to ask what had just happened, although Mason was no longer reading his book.

Setting it down, he finally plucked the courage to ask her. "What's going on?"

"Logan's the leader now." Charlotte started, still staring at the lamp as she whispered. "He assaulted your brother, and he's gonna start taking you two on raids. I tried to stop it, but it just wasn't enough…"

"Oh…" Mason trailed off, unsure what to say to make his sister feel better. Nothing would help her, and she only listened as he continued. "We'll be able to pull our weight here. You don't have to worry about us, we gotta grow up sometime."

"This isn't growing up, Mason. This is suicide." Charlotte snapped, immediately regretting it when Mason flinched involuntarily, his gaze dropping as he sat there, fiddling with his thumbs. Sighing loudly, she shook her head and rubbed her eyes, dragging her hand in a downwards fashion whilst she tried to think of what to do.

Resting her hand on her chin, she finally whispered, not wanting anyone to overhear what she was going to say. "Sam's gonna see us tonight, after everyone's gone to sleep. I want you and your brother to pack up your sleeping bag and your things. We can't risk taking the tent."

"Are we leaving?" he asked, a frown on his face as he looked at the wall of the tent. "It's dangerous out there, on our own."

"It's dangerous staying here. I'm gonna do what I need to do to keep you two safe." She replied, determined about their plan. Leaning over to the lamp, she turned it off, plunging the tent into darkness. Readjusting herself, she just sat there as she softly told them. "Get some sleep, guys. I'll wake you up when Sam comes for us."

Rustling could be heard, most likely her brother doing what he was told and settling down in the sleeping bag, not bothering to zip it up whilst he settled down. Sitting there, in the dark, she felt anxiety ripping at her innards, terrified of what she was planning on doing. It would protect her brothers, but she was worried what would happen if they got caught. Even if they did escape, where they could go was in the back of her mind, knowing that supplies was short. They couldn't risk going east into Louisiana, that was where the group was planning on going. Leaning back, she wondered if they were able to go north, into Oklahoma or Arkansas.

Wherever they would go, it would be better than staying there, and going on a road trip with Samantha had a somewhat romantic air about it. If the dead weren't up and walking around, she wondered if she would have even met her girlfriend, thinking of her as one of the people she could trust. After giving the plan a moment of thought, she stood up, hunched over due to the height of the tent, stepping off her bed roll as she started packing it away. Rolling it up, she picked it up and, feeling around for her backpack, started shoving it in.

She didn't have much in there, just some clothes and a machete she had before joining the group. Zipping it back up, she pulled the candy bar she hid in her waist band, staring down at it as her stomach growled, wondering when she would next see food. The next town wasn't for a while, as they were nearing the border between Texas and Louisiana. Shoving it in Samantha's borrowed jacket, she zipped the backpack back up, leaving it leaning against the tent door whilst she waited for her girlfriend to come and get them.

It didn't take as long as she thought, the door unzipping suddenly whilst she sat there, tensing momentarily before Samantha's face calmed her down. She looked scared, but considering what they were doing, it was to be expected. Silently, she gestured for them to follow her, glancing behind her whilst Charlotte got to her feet, sneaking over to her brothers and shaking them gently, whispering softly when they roused awake. "We gotta go now. Pack up your sleeping bag, I'll keep an eye outside."

Mason nodded, helping Dylan out of the sleeping bag as they quickly got to packing their belongings up. Meanwhile, Charlotte crawled out of the tent, backpack on her shoulder, pushing the flap out of her way as the cold night air hit her, chilling her core. Shaking, she let out a chilled breath, glancing at Samantha as she too crouched low, keeping herself out of sight from the bandits on guard. Glancing around, she noticed that the ones on watch tonight were all gathered around the campfire, chatting and laughing with each other, none noticing the two women crouching low to the ground.

"They aren't gonna stay like that forever." Samantha warned, her voice low and quiet. "We gotta go, now."

Turning around, she saw Dylan and Mason crawling out of the tent, their backpack on Dylan's back as he nodded to his older sister. Silently, she followed after Samantha as she led them away from their tent, keeping on the outskirts of their camp to avoid drawing attention. Her heart beat loudly in her ears, her hand grasped tightly around Dylan's behind her, making sure that they could not be separated during this daring escape. Occasionally, her eyes darted over to the group laughing by the campfire, telling stories to each other.

The forest was pitch black, the only light in the middle of the camp slowly fading away as they crawled further and further away. Slowly, Samantha stood up, turning to Charlotte as she passed her a small bag, watching as Charlotte pulled her bag off her shoulder, opening it up to put the small bag inside. Quietly, she explained to her. "I stole some of the supplies kept in Michelle's tent. Food, bottles of water, things we need until we hit the next town."

"If we weren't escaping, I would have told you off for stealing." Charlotte joked, straightening up whilst Samantha smiled warmly at her, walking further into the forest with her and the two teen boys in tow.

"Well, one of us have to think about the future." She laughed, pausing as she frowned. "You know, I don't regret this. If we gotta survive without a group, I'm glad I'm doing this with you."

"We'll be alright, Sam." Charlotte smiled, passing Samantha before she too paused, turning around to add. "You got me. I won't leave you."

"Same here…" Samantha agreed, a playful smirk on her face as she flirted. "You know, that jacket really suits you. When we get to the next town, remind me to find us some alone ti-"

She never finished her sentence, as a gunshot rang through the air, piercing through her forehead, the bullet still travelling as it skimmed Charlotte's cheek, leaving a deep gash as she cried out in pain. A hand shot up to stop the bleeding, and staring at the hole in her girlfriend's forehead, she could only gasp loudly when the body fell to the ground. Dylan shouted loudly, shock on his face as he called out in agony. "Sam!"

"Don't just stand there! Get the traitors, they stole supplies from us!" Logan's voice called out, the sound of yelling coming their way. Stunned, Charlotte could only stare at the corpse whilst Dylan and Mason glanced behind them, the former rushing to Charlotte's side, dragging her by her arm whilst yelling at her.

"Charlotte, we gotta go!" he begged, staring down at Samantha's still bleeding corpse as he finally gave in. "We have to leave her…"

Nodding, tears streaming down her face, she glanced upwards and saw her former friends making their way towards them, their flashlights the only light in the dark. Panicking, she turned and, with her brothers by her side, rushed off into the dark. She couldn't see, unable to risk using her lamp in fear it would give their position away to the bandits chasing them. Frightened, she had to lead her brothers to safety, pushing her way through the foliage, hopping over a fallen log whilst Dylan and Mason quickly copied her.

Her legs ached terribly, the sound of gunshots and yelling getting quieter as the trio managed to run faster than the group, unable to determine whether the group gave up or were still chasing after them. The sounds no doubtedly drawn walkers, the telltale sound of groans in the distance causing her hairs to stand up on their ends. Gasping for air, she could see her brothers getting tired from the exertion, Mason starting to slow down as he struggled to keep up. Up ahead, she paused when she noticed an abandoned highway, cars littered the road with bodies smeared across the tarmac.

Pausing she glanced up at the sign, noticing the Louisiana border not being far from where they were. Unsure where else to go, she started running down the road with Dylan and Mason behind her, the former having to practically drag his brother with him. Some of the corpses weren't really dead, weakly growling at the survivors as they ran by, too slow to keep up with them. She needed to stop. Her legs were cramping up, her lungs burned terribly, and it was too dark to keep running in the open. They couldn't stop, not with the threat of their old group finding them, and Mason finally gave up, collapsing on the road.

Dylan skidded to a stop, glancing behind him as he retraced his steps, returning to his brother's side with a panicked voice. "Come on, Mason! We can't stop now!"

"I-I… I can't k-keep going." He panted, slowly returning to his feet as the duo glanced up at Charlotte, looking to her for guidance on what to do.

Breathing heavily, she glanced around and prayed. "Let's see if any of these cars work. Keep a look out."

Doing as they were told, the young boys stood straight, keeping an eye out for anything dangerous coming their way. Whilst they were doing that, Charlotte looked inside the cars that were left abandoned on the road. The one beside her was no good, not only were the keys not there but it was out of fuel, and smashed into the highway barrier. Backing away, she turned to a large truck, the trailer detached from it and lying on its side. Climbing up the ladder, she tried the door, finding it to be unlocked.

"Thank god." She muttered, entering the cab and glancing at the dashboard. Frowning, she saw no keys in the ignition, cursing under her breath whilst trying to see if they fell down onto the floor. When she couldn't find them there, she glanced through the broken windshield, and saw a corpse at the end of a blood trail not far from the front of the truck.

Exiting the truck, she hopped down the ladder, grunting as she impacted with the ground. Standing on shaking knees, the agony in her cheek was distracting her enough, her hand returning to press against the wound whilst she ran over to the corpse. Kneeling beside it, she stared at its smashed in head, and whispered to herself. "Please have something good."

Searching through his pockets, she pulled out a set of keys, a soft gasp coming from her before she smiled. "Thank you."

Pressing the unlock button, she jumped at the sound of the car further down the road, confused about this whilst deciding to investigate. Rushing to the car ahead, she skidded to a stop outside the door, glancing into the lit up vehicle to see the keys missing from the ignition. Swinging the door open, she sat down in the driver's seat, shoving the keys in the slot and turned it, hoping silently whilst the car spluttered. "No, no, no…."

Turning it again, she waited for the sound of the engine roaring to life, and smiled to herself when it did. Leaning out of the car, she loudly called to her brothers. "Dylan, Mason, over here!"

The two turned around, rushing over to the working vehicle whilst Dylan gasped. "Thank god, let's get outta here!"

"Get in!" she ordered, spotting lights coming out of the forest. Her heart dropped, seeing Logan at the front of the group, turning to see her sitting in a running car before aiming his rifle at her, shouting unclear things at the trio. Dylan and Mason dived into the car, slamming the door shut whilst shots rang through the air. Shutting the driver's door, Charlotte pulled the brake up, pushing the accelerator pedal down as hard as she could.

The car lurched forward, skidding down the road at high speeds as she tried to steer it, dodging the obstacles whilst the back window shattered, a bullet having been shot whilst the group being left behind tried to run after them. Logan stopped, and charlotte watched in her rear view mirror as he retreated back into the forest, the lights disappearing into the pitch darkness. Finally safe, she released the breath she didn't know she was holding, whilst Dylan and Mason sat there, their faces showing how terrifying the situation was for them.

With a saddened expression, Mason softly consoled Charlotte. "I'm sorry about Sam…"

"She's gone now, but she's not coming back." She replied, trying to push the incident to the back of her mind. "Anyhow, we gotta keep moving. This car doesn't have much gas, so we gotta scrounge some more when we hit the next town. Just, get some sleep. I'll wake you up when we get there."

Glancing at each other, they laid down on the seats, brushing the broken glass on the floor so that they didn't cut themselves on it. With them drifting off to sleep, Charlotte continued to drive in silence, her mind reeling from what just happened. Her bleeding cheek ached, but her heart hurt just as much when the image of Samantha, a bullet wound in the middle of her head, flashed in front of her eyes. Without making a sound, tears fell down her face, stinging her wound whilst she sniffed softly, not daring to make any sound whilst her brothers slept. They managed to escape, but she was faced with an unsure future alone.

She hoped they had luck on their side.


	2. On The Road

They drove all the way through the night. Exhausted, Charlotte glanced up at the sky, noticing the sun starting to make its appearance once more, the light illuminating the dark blue skies and dying it colours of green, yellow and lighter blues. The road they were driving on was fairly clear, no cars or bodies littering it for as far as she could see, and leaning back in the driver's seat, she sighed quietly to herself. Behind her, her brothers were sleeping soundly, Dylan resting against the car door whilst Mason laid on his stomach, his head resting on his twin's abdomen. Neither seemed to have bothered putting seatbelts on, although she too didn't wear hers. There was no one to pull them over for it, and they would need to make a quick getaway if the car broke down.

Worried, she glanced down at the fuel gauge, noting the arrow halfway between empty and half-full. They would need to stop for gas soon. Glancing at the signs passing by, she noted that there was a gas station a few miles down the road, along with some services. Doubting there would be much there, her hunger and the low fuel in their only mode of transport forced her to keep going, the soft hum of the engine doing little to calm her nerves. Talking to herself, her voice was quiet. "Let's hope we get a break here."

Her hands lazily gripped the steering wheel, barely moving as the road ahead was fairly straight, but she couldn't stop staring at the dried blood on her fingertips. Her wound had stopped bleeding, though it still stung like hell, and she managed to get her crying under control during the night. She missed Samantha terribly, wondering what it would be like with her sitting next to her, telling jokes to calm the Texan down. Sitting there, listening to the car as it drove along the road, she could practically hear her girlfriend's voice next to her.

 _When we hit the next town, remind me to get us some alone time._ The flirty tone in her low voice made Charlotte smile, saying nothing as she heard her continue. _This road trip is gonna be one of the most romantic trips I've gone on._

"You've never been on any trips." She quietly replied, glancing over at the passenger's seat, half expecting Samantha to be sitting there with that knowing smile on her face. When she saw no one, she realised that the voices were all she was going to have left of her. Rather, she was lying face first in the dirt back in the forest, no doubt being left to rot by Logan and the people she thought were her friends.

Quietly, she sat there whilst the sound of rustling behind her alerted her to her brothers, the two younger teens waking up. Out of the rear view mirror, she watched as Mason sat up, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand as he glanced around, whilst Dylan sat up from the car door, stretching out with a loud yawn. With a faint smile on her face, she waited for them to fully awaken before she piped up. "You guys sleep well?"

"My back hurts like shit." Dylan grumbled, rubbing it as he glanced out of the window. "Morning already?"

"Yep, been driving all night now. We should have crossed the border into Louisiana a few hours back." Charlotte explained, glancing at the signs showing the pit stop is the next turn off the highway. "We're gonna make a pit stop in a minute. We need supplies and fuel to keep us going until we hit the next town."

"There's a map behind here." Mason pointed out, pulling a map from the pouch on the back of the driver's seat. Keeping her eyes on the road, she listened as he opened the map up, looking at it for a few moments until he piped up. "Do you know what route we're on?"

"I think the sign said route 84." She replied, remembering reading something like that a while back. She was exhausted however, and so she couldn't be sure where they exactly where. Mason hummed at that, staring at the map whilst Dylan just stared out of the window, crossing his arms whilst he appeared like he was ready to fall asleep again. Concentrating on driving, Charlotte started to slow down as the turn off the highway came up to them, driving down it and following the narrow road up to the gas station.

Frowning, she noted how many cars were left behind in the carpark in front of the stores behind the gas station, pulling up beside it. Putting the handbrake on, she turned the keys in the ignition off, taking the keys out to ensure no one able to steal their vehicle whilst they were scavenging. Shoving them in her jacket pocket, and grabbing the lamp by her bag, she opened her car door whilst ordering her brothers. "Come on, we gotta see what we can find here."

Following after her, both of them exited the car, standing there whilst she opened her backpack sitting on the passenger seat, sprawled over the driver's seat and over the brake as she took her machete out. Leaving the bag there, she grunted as she pulled herself out of the car, closing the door and locking it, the lights flashing for a moment to ensure it was locked. Keeping the keys in her pocket, she turned around to her brothers, seeing Mason still staring at the map as he started to explain to her. "It seems we're close to Mansfield. If we go through, there's a large Walmart near the end of route 509."

"That might be a good place to find things we need." Charlotte agreed, fishing out her pistol as she carried on. "Alright, y'all start looking in the cars, see if there's anything we can use. Stay close, and don't fire this unless you have no other choice. Okay?"

Taking the gun, Dylan and Mason nodded as the former asked the older survivor. "What are you gonna be doing?"

"I gotta see if there's anything around here that we can use to siphon gas. Hopefully, there's somethin' in that gas station." She sighed, walking over to the small store in the gas station as she added. "Don't go too far, and yell if you find somethin'."

The two young teens did as they were told, walking off to search the nearby cars whilst charlotte diverted her attention to the gas station in front of her. Walking past the pumps, she glanced at them, wondering if there was still fuel left in them. Having nothing to siphon it out, she looked at the store beside her, walking slowly towards it as uneasiness settled in. The windows were half boarded up, and some of the boards were torn down with the windows smashed in, the glass nowhere to be seen on the outside of the building. Taking in a deep breath, she passed the large bags of coal sitting on the outside, the sign showing their price splattered with blood and graffiti, some more of the ominous writing slathered on the side of the wall.

Pushing the door, she frowned when it refused to budge, spotting a whole cabinet piled against it, most likely the last desperate act of those that lived inside. Concerned for her own safety, she gripped the handle of her machete tightly, backing away from the door as she glanced over at the broken window. With the idea in mind, she stalked over to it, noting that there was nothing blocking the broken window, and sighed in relief. "Let see what we got here."

Prepping her foot in the window, she grabbed tight hold of the window frame, making sure she wasn't grabbing any of the shards of glass still wedged in the wooden frame. Hoisting herself up, she stood there for a moment, glancing inside to see if there was anything dangerous inside. Spotting nothing, she jumped down onto the floor, the cracking sound of glass being crushed under her feet loud in the silence. Straightening herself out, she glanced around, noting how dark it was without the lights above working.

"Good thing I grabbed the lamp from the car before I did this." She grumbled to herself, noting a lighter left on the counter, a pack of cigarettes not far when she grabbed both. Pocketing the cigarettes, she held the lighter in her hand, flicking it open and rolling the small wheel under her thumb, watching the flame burst to life as she shrugged. "Better than nothing."

Flicking the case close again, she pocketed it and turned on the lamp, using it to light up underneath the counter, highlighting the things that were abandoned by the previous users. Smirking to herself, she grabbed the shotgun that was sitting there, propping it against the counter as she grabbed the few shells that were left. It wasn't much, but it would be better than nothing. Shoving them in her pocket, she saw nothing else and straightened up, turning her attention to the shotgun as she sheathed her machete, the holster strapped to her back.

"Let's see if y'all have any ammo." She muttered to herself, opening the weapon and peering in, using the light of the lamp to see. There was only one shotgun shell inside, and closing it back up, she lifted the weapon up, propping the barrell on her shoulder as she climbed over the counter. Sliding off it, she looked around. The scene before her was nerve-wracking. There were bodies lying there on the floor, the flies buzzing around annoyingly whilst the smell finally hit her, causing her to groan in disgust and cover her nose with her arm.

"Jesus. These fellas must have been here for a good while." She sighed, carefully stepping over the bodies when she peered at the shelves, disappointed to find very little there. "Fuck. Whoever caused this must have stole all that was left."

Still, she had to keep looking. Glancing around, she spotted a bag beside one of the bodies, the corpse propped up against the wall. Creeping towards it cautiously, the lamp highlighted the corpse's face, blood stained the rotting flesh as it just sat there, milky eyes staring straight at her. Unnerved, she placed the shotgun on the floor and made a grab for the bag, yelling out in fright when the corpse came to life. Grabbing her arm, it groaned loudly as it tried to pull her limb into its gnashing jaws, the decayed arms proving weaker than hers.

Despite that, she struggled to free herself, pulling back with her weight as the walker's arm detached from it socket, causing her to fall backwards, landing on her back. The lamp was knocked out of her hand, smashing against the floor and casting her in darkness. The light coming from the window helped very little, the sun still coming over the horizon, and all Charlotte could make out was the silhouette of the walker as it lunged for her. "Shit!"

Throwing the removed arm away from her, she put both arms out in front of her, keeping the walker at bay so that its teeth couldn't reach her flesh. Grunting loudly, she glanced around for something to kill it, the shotgun that she left on the floor right by her feet. Frightened, her arms shook as she tried to push it off her, creating enough space that she could bring her knee up and hook her foot against it neck. With her arms free, she yelled in exertion as she pushed as hard as she could, the walker growling loudly as its remaining arm scrambled to grab her.

"Get… the fuck… off!" she grunted, throwing the walker off her with her foot, scrambling to grab the machete strapped to her back. Pulling it free, she jumped to her feet whilst the walker stumbled to get up itself, throwing the blade down with all her might. Piercing through the corpse's skull, blood splattered onto her jacket, staining the fabric a dull red colour. The smell got to her as she wrenched the weapon free, grunting loudly whilst stumbling backwards.

Standing there panting loudly, she glanced over at the broken lamp, the filament in the shattered bulb still red hot, glass shards scattered everywhere on the dirty floor. Picking the broken equipment up, she stared at it and sighed, looking around in the darkness, throwing it away whilst delving into her pocket. Pulling out the lighter, she flicked the case open and struck the wheel, watching as the flame burst to life and illuminated the immediate area around her. Frowning, she muttered to herself whilst grabbing the fallen bag off the floor. "This'll have to do."

Kneeling, she placed her machete back in her strapped sheath and opened the bag, hoping silently that there was something to take from her near death experience. Peering inside, she let out a sigh of relief. Whoever did this, they missed a bag full of food and a canteen, Charlotte taking it out and shaking it, smiling at how full it felt. Flicking the top off, she took a sip of it, wincing at how old the water tasted. Still, she was severely thirsty and she didn't know when she would next find any water.

Closing the top once more, she saved the rest for her brothers, glancing behind her at the broken window. "It's quiet. Too quiet, I better find something and get outta here."

Shoving the canteen back in the bag, she kept the top open as she went from shelf to shelf, eager to find something more for her troubles. A lot of the shelves were picked clean however, not even a morsel to be found. Groaning in annoyance, she backed away from the last shelf, turning around to see a door, the sign saying _Staff Room._ Shrugging, she tried to open the door, jiggling the handle when it was apparent that the door was locked. Backing away, she glared at it and grumbled. "Figures."

Giving it some space, she prepped herself to kick the door down, tensing up when she ran for it, the door vibrating when she delivered a solid kick to it. Unmoving, she tried again, curious to what was behind that door. Again, again and again, the door finally gave way, slamming against the door with a loud slam. Standing there exhausted, she took a moment to catch her breath, lifting the lighter up to highlight the insides of the room. Walking in, she noted how cold the air felt, her hairs standing on the back of her neck whilst she looked around, fright running through her when she eventually found the sole occupant of the small room.

The body was hanging from the ceiling, growling softly as it noticed the intruder, a hand weakly reaching out in an attempt to grab her. Wincing at the rope straining against its weight, she removed her weapon and, nearing the alive corpse, grunted as the blade pierced through the front of its face, the sounds ceasing immediately. Pulling it free, she readjusted the bag on her back, machete still in hand, as she momentarily closed her eyes. "Rest in peace."

Going back to looking around, she ignored the swinging corpse as she used the lighter to show the floor, kicking an empty bottle of water as she muttered. "He must have locked himself in here to escape what killed his friends out there, but he quickly ran out of supplies. I guess it was… just too much to bear."

With haste, she searched the rest of the room, avoiding the bedroll that was set up in the corner, empty cans of food and bottles of water littering the area around it. There was nothing there that she could use however, everything either eaten of plain useless for their survival, and in the end she just grabbed a rag sitting on the coffee table, dodging the swinging corpse as she pocketed it. "This'll do for siphoning the gas."

With nothing else there, she walked out of the room, not sparing it a single glance as she made her way over to the discarded shotgun, picking it off the floor with a frown. Closing the lighter, the area around her darkened considerably despite the light pouring in from the exposed window. Quickly, she hopped over the counter again and, with some effort, climbed out of the window, almost tripping on a discarded gas can that definitely wasn't there before. Readjusting herself, she glanced behind her, staring at the gas can before picking it up, noting how light it felt. "Empty."

"We found a few of them hidden in the boot of a car." Dylan explained, suddenly behind her with his gun in hand, Mason following after him with his map still in hand. Turning around, she noticed a long pipe in her younger brother's other hand, a smirk on his face as he waved it. "Whoever was here before us had the same idea. You reckon they're gonna miss this?"

"That there's not funny, Dylan." Charlotte scolded, carrying the car nearest to them. Dylan frowned at the telling off, shaking his head as he and his brother just followed, watching as she started getting to work siphoning gas.

Placing the gas can on the ground, she screwed the top off and placed it beside the container, leaving it there as she opened the cap off the car's fuel tank. Dylan walked up beside her, passing her the tube without a word being spoken between them, instead just watching as she weaved the piping through the opening into the car tank. Making sure that it was properly submerged, she grabbed the rag from her pocket and stuffed it around the piping, making sure it was constricting the pipe but also that no air could get into the tank. Spotting Dylan watching her with confusion, she smirked as she explained. "Stops air gettin' in the tank. We need a proper seal if we wanna get the gas from in there out here."

"Whatever you say." He shrugged, walking away to look at the map with Mason whilst Charlotte got back to work. With a proper seal around the pipe and the tank opening, she got the other end of the piping and, with gas can close, blew into it with all the air she had in her lungs. Feeling pressure built up in the pipe, she kept her thumb over the opening to seal it, grabbing the can and lifting it so that the opening was near the pipe.

Removing her thumb, she watched as gas started travelling through the pipe, spilling into the open gas can. Whilst that was filling up, she glanced behind her, watching her brothers muttering to each other while staring at the map, Dylan pointing at something on it whilst Mason shook his head. The sound of pouring gas next to her, she called out to them. "Y'all figuring out where we're going next?"

"We can't decide. Dylan wants us to head up to North Carolina, but that's a great deal away." Mason replied, ignoring his brother shooting him dirty looks for rejecting his idea. Raising an eyebrow, she just listened as he turned to her, his finger still poking something on the map.

"We have family up there. Aunt Abigail and Uncle Joe need to know what's happened to the rest of us…" Frowning, he couldn't stop the sad glint in his eyes as he glanced down at his gun, not even looking at Charlotte as she knelt there, hiding her grief under a mask of confidence.

Dylan had a good plan. Without the group or Elizabeth to guide them, finding their aunt and uncle would give more adults to help her raise the two young boys, worried that something might happen if they stay on their own. Breathing in, she sighed softly and nodded. "I agree with Dylan. We're vulnerable on our own, and if we can make it to North Carolina then we'll be out of Logan's grip."

Turning her attention back to the pipe, she spotted how full the can was getting and lifted the pipe, placing her thumb on the end to stop any of the gas being wasted. Dylan watched this, before grabbing another one of the gas cans he collected and carrying it over to her, placing it down as he asked warily. "You reckon we have enough gas to make it to North Carolina?"

"We fill up these gas cans, and yeah I reckon." She replied, starting to fill up the gas can when she noticed bubbles in the gas flowing through, frowning as she grumbled. "Damn tank's near enough empty. Fuck."

Pulling the pipe out, she let what was left to flow into the can, grabbing the rag as she stood up, gas cans in hand. Glancing around, she walked over to an abandoned ambulance, peeking in the back to see if there was anything of use. Spotting nothing, she felt someone nudging her, turning her head to see Dylan and Mason with the empty gas cans in their hands, the latter having put his map away to help. Putting one down, Mason piped up whilst she carried on siphoning gas from the vehicle. "Are we gonna check out those buildings over there while we're here?"

"I dunno. Maybe." Charlotte confessed, watching the gas flow into the container as she continued. "It's not safe here, too open. We best be on the road by noon."

"There could be some stuff in there that we need, like medical supplies. Your cheek don't look too good." Fingers grazed her open wound, and Charlotte flinched at the feeling, pain radiating from her injury as she moved her fingers away. Silent, she considered what Mason was telling her when Dylan piped up, the sound of him walking closer loud behind her.

"We can go and check." He offered, quickly adding when Charlotte looked like she was ready to reject the idea. "We ain't kids no more. You can get all the gas we need, and Mason and me can see if there's anything in there.

"There's no way I'm letting you two go off on your own. We don't know what's in them buildings." She shot back, carrying on with screwing the container closed and grabbing the next empty one from Dylan, the boy standing there with a scowl.

"We don't have time to be sitting here waiting for you to fill these cans up!" he snapped, pulling his gun out of his pocket as he added. "We got weapons, we can defend ourselves if things get dicey! Why not just give me your shotgun so Mason can have my pistol?"

"Cause this thing here will knock you flat on your ass if you even try to fire it." Charlotte growled, a stern look on her face as she interrupted Dylan trying to complain. "Dylan, I ain't asking you! Now, you park your ass over there with Mason or I swear to God I'll-!"

"You'll what?!" he retorted, balling his fists up as he added in a cold tone. "You used to understand us. If Sam was here-"

"I'm gonna stop you right there. Don't you fucking _dare_ bring her into this argument, because I ain't gonna stand for it, Dylan." Charlotte warned, shooting him a ice cold glare that made him back off, returning to her work. The confrontation hurt her deeply. Heart constricting, she tried her best to ignore it, not able to bring herself to truly be mad at Dylan. They were all tired, starving, and they were running away from a group that would kill them as surely as they did to Samantha.

Quietly, she listened as he apologized. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

"I know. Just… just go and sit with your brother." She ordered, her voice soft as she watched him go and sit with Mason, before carrying on with the fuel. After a while, they had three full cans of fuel, and one that was almost halfway, all useful for their trip to North Carolina. Thinking about it, she seemingly recalled her dad talking about visiting family before all of it started.

Chances are, their aunt and uncle fled from their home, or might not even be in the same state anymore, but they would have to try. As well as that, having a plan seemed to have calmed her brothers down, and sending them into a panic over the thought of not seeing any of their family again was something she couldn't bear to think about. Frowning slightly, she carried the jerry cans back to their car, her brothers following after her with Dylan carrying the others. Placing them by the rear of the vehicle, she grabbed the keys out of her pocket and opened the fuel cap.

"You need any help with that?" she heard Dylan ask, placing the jerry cans with the others. Grabbing one of them, she tossed her keys to the young teen, opening the can and started to pour it in.

"Go in the driver's seat there and keep an eye on the fuel gauge for me. Yell what it's pointin' at when I finish filling the tank." She explained, watching as Dylan caught the keys and walked briskly to the driver's seat, opening it and sitting down in the seat whilst watching the dashboard. Mason meanwhile, stood there, confused on what to do when Charlotte called out to him. "Mason, get in the car and look at that map of yours. We gotta plan what town we're hitting next on our way to North Carolina."

"Will do, Charlie." With that, he walked to the back door and opened it, climbing into the vehicle and shutting the door behind him, leaving her alone to get on with her task. Glancing up at the sky, she noted how the sun was already sitting high up, the warm rays heating her back up whilst the cold winds of the incoming winter cooled her down again. Clouds were rolling lazily in the skies, grey and looking ready to rain.

Emptying what was left of the fuel into the tank, she opened the boot and launched the empty jerry can inside, packing up the rest of the containers as she yelled for Dylan. "What's it say on that fuel gauge?"

"It looks like it's between halfway and full!" Dylan answered, confusion clear in his voice as Charlotte shook her head, an amused smirk on her face.

"That'll do then. I'll just pack up the rest of our stuff and we'll head out, just give me a minute." She replied, ready to close the boot door when she heard shuffling behind her. In a flash, she grabbed her shotgun, the weapon propped up against the vehicle, and spun on her foot, aiming it at the danger behind her. Staring at it, she was surprised to find a grown man standing there, a small girl behind him and another woman by his side, all of them frightened by her quick movement.

Losing her cold glare, she instead looked shocked, lowering her weapon slightly as the man, talking through his thick beard, slowly asked her. "Please, can you spare some fuel?"

"I dunno if you noticed," she started, pointing at all the cars around them with her gun. "But there's a lotta fuel laying around here."

"We don't have anything to siphon it with, we looked all over the place, and our car's practically running on fumes!" he explained, staring nervously at her shotgun as he added, seeing her not impressed with his pleas. "We can trade, I got some gauze and disinfectant for that nasty looking wound on your cheek. All I ask is just one of them jerry cans."

Charlotte stared down at the young girl, who moved further behind her father's legs, and softened her steel exterior, feeling pity for the young child, to be caught up in this horrid world. Suddenly, she heard a click behind her and turned her head, spotting Mason and Dylan having exited the car and standing there, the latter aiming his pistol at the family with a stern look. With a frown, she listened as he demanded answers. "What do you want?"

"They're here to trade. They need fuel, and they're willing to give us some medical supplies in exchange for a jerry can." Charlotte explained, staring at the pistol in his hands as she quietly snapped at him. "Dylan, put your gun down."

"I don't think so. We just escaped one group that tried to kill us, I'm not taking any chances with these guys." He growled, looking down at the young girl as he added. "Shit."

"I didn't know you had kids. It's hard, isn't it? Being a single parent." The man pointed out, lowering his hands when Charlotte proved she wasn't gonna shoot them. Sparing him a glance, she looked back at her brothers and nodded, watching Dylan lowering his gun with an annoyed scowl.

"They ain't my kids." She revealed, lowering her shotgun fully whilst Mason came closer, a smile on his face as he waved at them. "They're my younger brothers. This here's Mason, and that one over there is Dylan."

"Ah, I take it your parents aren't with you guys?" The woman asked, receiving a shake of the head from Charlotte, adopting a sympathetic look as she continued. "I'm sorry to hear that. Must be hard, looking after two boys."

"If you don't mind, I'd rather talk business. We're heading off now and I wanna be back on the road as quick as possible." Charlotte explained, staring back at the man as she got down to business. "You show me the supplies, and I'll see if its worth a jerry can."

"Honey, give me your backpack." The man ordered, waiting as the woman nodded and slipped the bag off her shoulders, zipping it open whilst Charlotte and her brothers watched. Glancing at Dylan, she noticed his displeased look about all this, shaking her head when he moved to say something. Closing his mouth again, he just kept his pistol lowered whilst watching the woman pull out a box.

Handing it over to Charlotte, she took it silently and peered in, somewhat disappointed with the contents within. Two rolls of bandages, a gauze and a nearly empty bottle of disinfectant. Still, it was something that they needed and couldn't find, and she was willing to give some fuel for it when Dylan, having glanced in the box and seen what was in it, frowned deeply and barked at the group. "That's it? This isn't worth a whole can of fuel!"

"Dylan." Mason tried to calm, moving to grab his brother's shoulder as he was shrugged off. "We don't have any medical supplies on us, and it's only a jerry can of fuel. We still have loads left. I say we trade."

"The hell we will! We can find medical stuff when we're hitting the next town, but we gotta travel a long way to reach North Carolina!" Dylan snapped, Charlotte noticing the grip on his gun tightening.

Turning back to the family, the man appeared angry with the young teen, snapping at him in a harsh tone. "We ain't got anything else, boy! Why don't you let the adults discuss this and stop waving that damn gun around?"

"Fuck you, why are we even talking about this, Charlie?!" Dylan snapped, raising his gun again as he added. "I say fuck 'em, we'll take everything!"

"Dylan, the fuck are you doing?!" Mason snapped, watching in horror as his brother aimed the gun at the family, the father pushing his daughter behind him to protect her whilst the woman grabbed his arm, staring with terror clear on her face. Charlotte was shocked with her brother's actions, reacting without any thought about the consequences. Grabbing his wrist, she wrenched the gun from his grip, dropping her shotgun in the process.

Without his weapon, he stumbled backwards as he glared at his older sister. "The fuck was that?!"

"Get in the car, _now._ " She growled, her voice a harsh and low tone whilst Dylan stared at her, glancing at the frightened family before doing as he was told, walking back to the car in a defeated hump. Watching him climb into the passenger seat, she turned to Mason and gave him the gun, noting how he slowly took it and stared down at it with a tinge of fear.

With that situation sorted, she turned back to the family, the father angered with how Dylan behaved. "You gotta control that boy, before he gets himself killed."

"You gotta forgive him, we've been having a pretty shit time so far." She sighed, rubbing her forehead with her hand as she offered. "I'll give you one of our cans in exchange for the supplies."

Glancing at Mason, she smiled as he watched her approvingly, a warm smile on his face whilst she grabbed one of the full jerry cans. Turning around, she gave it to the man, ignoring his stern glares at her for the frightening scene with her brother, instead taking it silently. The box, having been dropped in the boot whilst she was dealing with Dylan, was picked up by Charlotte as she closed the boot, gesturing for Mason to get in the car whilst she dealt with the family. Grabbing her shotgun off the floor, she stood there awkwardly, staring at the father as she finally explained. "Look, as much as this conversation is riveting, I gotta get moving. I don't like stayin' in one place for too long."

"I hear you. Despite the misfortune of meeting your brother, I'm at least glad we ran into you." The father agreed, smiling slightly as he walked off with his family, waving goodbye to Charlotte as he called out his farewells. "Safe travels, stranger."

Nodding at that, she watched them walk away, before groaning to herself, pinching the bridge of her nose in an attempt to stifle an oncoming headache. With the boot securely closed, she turned around and walked around the vehicle, wrenching the door open and climbing into the driver's seat. Ignoring Dylan sitting in the passenger seat, she slammed the door shut, trying to get rid of some of the anger bubbling inside her, instead sitting there in silence whilst Mason watched from the back seat, a worried look on his face until he returned to looking at his map.

Slowly, she turned to the moping teen beside her, trying to keep calm as she interrogated him. "What the fuck was that just then?"

"You were gonna give our supplies away for a shitty box of bandages!" Dylan defended himself, crossing his arms as he leaned against his chair. "Look, maybe I made the wrong choice-"

"You call that there a fucking wrong choice?! You were trying to rob a family, Dylan!" Charlotte snapped, her voice loud and harsh that caused the teen to flinch slightly.

"It's what you did with Logan and the others! I thought, it can't be all that bad if it meant we have supplies to keep us going!" he pointed out, not even looking at Charlotte as he added. "Now you're treating me like a fucking kid."

"Kids don't go around robbing people at gunpoint! If you wanna be treated like an adult, you better grow the fuck up and fast!" she hissed, turning the keys in the ignition. The car roared to life and, releasing the handbrake, they started driving down the turnoff that led to the highway again. Keeping her eyes on the road, she ignored her brooding brother beside her, having nothing else to say to him.

Instead, she glanced up at the rearview mirror, looking at Mason staring at his map whilst calling out behind her, returning her gaze to the road. "You know where we're off to next?"

"Yeah," he started, his finger trailing over the thin paper the map was printed on. "We continue along this route, we'll hit the west side of Mansfield. We go straight through, change roads to route 509 and scavenge the Walmart there. If we continue along there, we'll get on a main road leading along the top of Louisiana."

"Sounds like as good a plan as any." Charlotte replied, leaning back in her seat as she started to relax. Looking at the signs hanging above the hangover, it was still a long distance before they would reach Mansfield. Mason fell silent after that, still unnerved by the confrontation between her and their brother, the two survivors sitting in complete silence at the front of the car.

Staring out the windshield, she watched the clouds start to gather, turning a darker shade of grey, and wondered when it would start to rain. Looking at the road, it was unnerving how little there was on the highway, the driver wondering where all the crashed cars and bodies were. Trying to tune out her worries, she sighed quietly to herself, slouching in her chair as she listened to Mason shuffling in the background, curious to what he was doing when his small voice piped up. "You wanna know what I found?"

"What'd ya find, sweetie?" she asked, peering up at the rearview mirror again when Mason held something up for her to see, a grin on his face at his find. Staring at it, she recognized it to be a small walkman, an amused look on her face as she added. "Have any good songs with it?"

"Not that I could find." He mused, somewhat disappointed about it.

After a short pause, she gave him a warm smile and replied. "I promise, any CDs we find in Mansfield you can have."

"Awesome." He laughed, putting the walkman next to him and returned to his map, glancing around as he sighed. "Damn, I forgot to pack my book."

"It shouldn't take too long. We'll be on the lookout for anything when we reach the next town. For now, just look at your map." Charlotte insisted, looking back at the road as she thought of something, suggesting it to her younger brother. "How about we play a game? See if you can find Savannah on the map."

"Savannah, okay." With that, Mason went to work trying to locate the city on his map, keeping him quiet and allowing Charlotte to concentrate on driving. Listening to the soft hum of the engine, she sneaked a peek at the fuel gauge, feeling much better about keeping their vehicle than before. However, Dylan sitting beside her, staring out of the window with his arms crossed, made her think about what the man told her before.

The whole reason they left their group was because he and Mason were in danger, she had to protect them, but seeing him aim a gun at a family without even blinking an eye, she wondered if she was too late to save her brother. Picturing Samantha's body, she questioned herself whether that sacrifice was pointless or not, trying to goad herself into abandoning that type of thinking. Maybe they could find help in North Carolina, or even find their family, either way she was determined to protect her only family left until then.


	3. Mansfield

Mansfield. The town was a literal ghost town, in Charlotte's mind, as they drove through the empty streets. Something wasn't right. Her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, turning her knuckles white. She was not the only one on edge, Mason had stopped playing their game with his map, instead glancing out of his window worryingly, whilst Dylan stopped his stropping mood. The younger teens glanced up at their guardian, noting her wary expressions as they glanced around. Driving down the street that led straight through the town, Charlotte noticed a couple of stores on her right, her eyes shifting over momentarily before returning to the road.

It was only a couple of stores, one of them holding a large sign above the doors reading 'Aaron's', looking like a computing store. Few cars were left outside in the car park, bodies lying propped up against the vehicles whilst others were left sprawled along the road. Driving past them, she listened as Dylan mumbled. "There's so many bodies…"

"Don't worry, Dylan." She comforted, looking down at him with an awkward smile. "We'll be outta here soon. We ain't stopping."

"That's good." He sighed in relief, no longer looking out of the window at the scene around them. Mason remained quiet behind them, Charlotte sneaking a look in her rearview mirror to see him staring down at his map, his bright smile lost on his face and instead replaced with a saddened frown, unable to look up from his map in fear of what he'll see. A somber look on her face, she looked back at the road, her eyebrow raising at something ahead of them.

It was a blockade, a large truck having tipped over some time ago, other cars that were too slow to dodge having collided with the huge vehicle. The pile up spread right across the road, and Charlotte just growled in frustration as she slowed the car down. Coming to a complete stop, she turned to Dylan as she ordered him. "Wait here."

"You sure you don't need some help?" he asked, glancing around the open road with a scared expression. "It's too open. I don't like it."

"I won't be long. Just gotta see if there's anyway around this blockade." She consoled, opening the car door as she climbed out the driver's seat, adding quickly before she left. "Get into the driver's seat. If anything happens, I want you to get you and your brother outta here."

Surprised by her choice of wording, Dylan appeared reluctant to do what she told him, but obeyed nonetheless. Closing the door to keep them safe, she turned to the large crash site in front of them, walking slowly with her hand pulling her machete free. With weapon in hand, she paused, feeling the wind softly blow through the town, her jacket keeping her warm. Despite it being sometime in November, the winters in Louisiana, and any of the southern states, weren't all that cold. That was going to change when they reached North Carolina, and Charlotte didn't fancy the thought of facing cold weather without proper shelter. However, she couldn't spend the rest of the day thinking about the weather, as the distant groans of walkers kept her on the alert.

"Let's get this sorted, then we can get movin'." She muttered to herself. Slowly, she walked around the truck and cars, glancing over the lawn in front of a bank, scowling at the sight of a knocked over powerline having fallen into the building, blocking any way for the car to get through. Frustrated, she briskly moved along the road block, looking down the other side to see if she would have better luck there. No such thing however, as a car that tried to avoid the crash ended up ramming into the front of the house, caving the wall in and breaking the windows, the shattered glass laying across the overgrown lawn.

Moving closer to the car, she noticed the driver was not quite dead, the corpse growling loudly as it noticed the survivor appearing by the car window. Staring at it, she searched the intents of the car, hoping to find something useful to take away from this. Noting that the glove compartment was open, she spotted some CDs in it, smirking as she tried to open the car door, her smirk quickly disappeared as it appeared to be locked. Backing up, she stood there for a moment, trying to figure out how to get into the car, before her foot hit something. Readjusting herself, she turned her head while quietly swearing. "Shit!"

Spotting a branch lying on the floor, she figured it must have come from the tree right next to the house, the car having made a large scrape in the tree and dislodged a fair number of its branches. Picking it up, she noted how heavy it was and, turning back around to the car, she moved closer to get a proper swing. "Batter up."

Throwing it forward with all her might, she was pleased with the sound of glass breaking, the glass falling down into the passenger seat. With that done, she dropped the branch and reached inside, pulling the lock up to unlock the car door, opening it whilst the walker became more determined to reach her. Machete in hand, she gave a glum look at the alive corpse, before shoving the blade through the forehead, watching the noises die down immediately. Wrenching it free, she turned to the open glove compartment, grabbing the CDs and a pack of gum that was left. "This'll make Mason happy."

Pocketing the finds, she hummed softly whilst exiting the car, finding nothing else of use to her. Exhaustion was sweeping over her, without the fear of walkers or bandits keeping her awake, and she knew that they were gonna have to crash somewhere to rest. Yawning, she turned around, freezing when she saw walkers making their way to her. Having been drawn to the loud shattering of the window, she readied her weapon and adopted an offensive stance, eyes trained on the walkers stumbling towards her. The first one lunged for her, the quicker survivor jumping to the side as the corpse stumbled past, her leg connected with its knee as she kicked it. A growl came from the walker, it falling to the floor with a dull thud. Before it could pick itself up, the machete was driven into the back of its head, causing it to fall back down, discoloured blood pooling underneath its head.

Grunting loudly, she pulled the blade free, wrenching it in a sideways motion whilst another walker came too close for comfort. The machete swung in a diagonal direction, slicing the walker's head clean off its shoulder, blood gushing out of the exposed throat, staining her already dirty jacket a dull red. The body fell to its knees, falling to the floor whilst Charlotte glanced at the remaining threat. There were too many of them shambling towards her, their gnashing jaws and grasping hands causing her heart to quicken as she backed up. There was no opening for her to exploit. Letting out a quiet groan, she felt her back hit the damaged wall of the house, glancing behind before the loud sounds of the walkers brought her attention back to them.

One of the walking corpses lurched forward, trying to grab her when she dodged it, hopping onto the bonnet of the car and jumping down on the other side. When her feet landed on the dry earth, she spared a single glance to the walkers before trying to run, feeling something grab hold of her ankle and pulling. Falling to the ground, she let out a yelp as the machete was dropped, clattering along the ground whilst she fell on her front. Turning her head, she noticed a walker that was trapped underneath the car, its body pinned down by the car's front wheels. Trying to pull her leg free, she rolled over onto her back, her eyes widening when she saw the walkers shambling over the car bonnet to follow her, loud groans and growls of hunger causing her mind to race.

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw her machete abandoned on the floor, grunting as she tried to reach for her weapon. Her fingers brushed against the handle, just out of reach, and she shook her head in fear whilst looking for something else. Quickly, she grabbed a brick that was knocked loose by the crash, smashing the walker's hand with it as hard as she could, wincing at the sound of the bones breaking and the flesh becoming mangled. Soon, its grip on her weakened enough for her to pull herself free, the young woman scrambling to her feet when the other walkers made it over the obstacle, some crawling towards her whilst others tried to get back on their feet.

Grabbing the machete, she gripped the handle tight as she spun around, backing away from the walkers as they made their way towards her. Glancing at the blockade separating her from her brothers, she sheathed the weapon and tried to climb it, pulling herself on top of the overturned truck cab. The walkers couldn't follow her, and instead smacked their hands against the vehicle, trying to reach up to pull her down into their snapping jaws. Balancing herself, she heard a muffled yell as her head turned, noticing a small number of walkers turning their attention to Mason and Dylan in the car, the young boys trapped whilst the corpses hit the windows with intense need for flesh.

"Get away from them!" she yelled in anger, rushing to the other side of the barricade and jumping down, landing on top of one of the walkers. Unable to react quickly enough, it was put down with a stab to the back of the head, remaining still whilst Charlotte rushed off to save her brothers.

Her yelling attracted the others, the corpses groaning as they turned to her. Skidding to a stop, she readied her machete as the few walkers left moved towards her, noticing Dylan watching from the driver's seat in dismay. She couldn't keep an eye on him for long, as she had to jump backwards to avoid a walker grabbing her, kicking it in the side of its knees. The loud snap of its bone breaking made her wince involuntarily, watching the walker fall down on its side before shoving the machete into its temple. As soon as she pulled it free, another walker lunged for her, shoving her into the cab violently, her arms thrown up to stop it from sinking its teeth into her neck.

"Fuck!" she yelled, trying to push the walker off her when she noticed another stumbling towards them, breathing heavily as she tried to push her attacker off, her hand holding her machete pinned between her and the walker. Suddenly, gunshots rang through the air, the approaching walker and the one attacking Charlotte falling down dead with shot wounds to the back of the head. Pushing the stinking corpse off her, she panted loudly, hands on knees as she mumbled. "Man…"

Glancing up, she saw Dylan standing in front of the car, smoking gun clenched tightly in his hands. His face was contorted in terror, before he managed to calm down with the threat gone. Straightening herself, she walked over to her young brother, taking the gun off him as he stood there silently, staring up at her as she smiled softly. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." He replied, a small smile on his face as he added. "We're a team, aren't we? We look out for each other."

"Sure thing, buddy." She agreed, rubbing the top of his hair affectionately, messing up his black hair. Peering up at her with bright blue eyes, both of them shared a friendly smile, before she guided him back to the car, her voice calm as she explained. "We ain't getting through this way. We better back up and go down one of the streets, see if we can go around."

Before he could reply, a loud growling from his stomach caught him off guard, his hands pressing against his jacket in an attempt to stem the discomfort. Glancing down at him, she listened as he complained. "I'm starving."

Feeling the candy bar still in her pocket, she pulled it out and passed it to him, trying not to think of Samantha giving it to her when he took it. "Here. We'll stop soon and eat, but we gotta get outta here before those gunshots attract any more of them walkers."

Nodding, he tucked into the candy bar given to him, relishing in the taste of chocolate that he hadn't experienced in a good while. Unable to watch him eat without feeling her stomach constrict painfully, Charlotte opened the door by the driver's seat, getting in quickly when she noticed the walkers climbing back over the bonnet to get to them, some crawling out of buildings that didn't have door to keep them in. Swearing under her breath, she shifted the gear into reverse as Dylan hopped into the passenger seat, reversing the car for a couple of feet before turning down another thinner road. Braking, she shifted the gear stick and drove off, desperate to put some distance between her family and the walking corpses.

Dylan, somewhat calmer without the threat of the walkers looming over them, continued to eat his candy bar, ignoring Charlotte as she called back to Mason sitting in the back seat. "There's a small bag of supplies in my backpack. Grab something to eat from out there. Looks like we ain't gonna be able to stop for a while."

"You reckon we'll make it to the Walmart?" Mason asked, peering inside her backpack as he pointed out. "We don't have much food for the journey, and we gotta stop soon to treat your injury."

Her deep gash was still not taken cared of, and who knows what infections were getting into the open cut. Sighing to herself, she glanced up at her rear view mirror, watching Mason eating a box of animal crackers whilst she explained. "Alright. We reach the Walmart and then I can patch myself up. Until then, I got something for you."

Confused, his face lit up quickly when his older sister pulled out some CDs from her pocket, the cases slightly cracked from her leg being pulled out from underneath her by a walker. Passing them behind her, she smiled softly when she listened to Mason excitedly thank her. "Thanks, Charlie!"

"Why don't you give them a whirl? Let's see if that person had any good taste." She suggested, returning her gaze to the road as Mason did what she asked. Soon, some country music started to play from his walkman, causing Charlotte to smile wider as she leaned back in her chair, her fingers tapping to the beat of the song. Dylan seemed less than impressed with it, instead just staring out of his window with his arms crossed, the wrapper of his candy bar shoved in his pocket.

Sparing him a glance, she frowned at how tired he seemed, his eyes fluttering shut before he forced himself awake, his body twitching each time he did so. Softly, she pointed out. "Y'all can have a small nap if you want. We ain't gonna reach the Walmart for a good half an hour."

"I'm good. I don't wanna sleep yet." He rejected, shuffling in his car as he looked over at Charlotte, staring at her face as he added. "What if your wound is infected?"

"I don't feel any different. We'll keep an eye on it, and I said I'll patch it up when we reach the Walmart. Walkers are on our tail, I ain't stopping until I know we're safe." She brushed off, worried however when her wound continued to throb. Aching flesh sensitive to touch, she had to keep her fingers away to stop any of the walker's blood from getting into the wound. She had to be careful. Noticing Dylan's stern looks, she realised that he was right. She was no good to them if she died from a damn infection.

"Alright, alright." She conceded, slowing the car down whilst turning to Mason, ordering him with a soft yet pained voice. "Grab the box we traded for. It should be next to my shotgun."

"Found it!" he responded, holding the box up for her to see, a sad smile on his face as he offered. "I can do it for you, if you like. It's pretty hard trying to disinfect your own face."

"Well then, doctor, y'all best get to it." She joked, opening the car door and sitting in the driver's seat lazily, watching Mason opening the back passenger door and shuffling out. Closing it behind him, box in hand, he walked over briskly to her, eager to get started to avoid the wound from becoming any more infected. Giving the box to her, she held onto it for safe keeping, opening it and passing the bottle of disinfectant over to her younger brother, watching him shake it and frown softly.

"Ain't much left in here." He revealed, pulling out a rag that he stuffed in the box whilst they were travelling along the road. Carefully, he opened the bottle, trying his best not to spill any over the hard to find fluid, before he poured some onto the rag. With it in hand, he glanced down at it, before looking up at Charlotte, noticing her wary look as he tried to joke with her. "I ain't gonna lie. This here's gonna hurt a lot."

Sighing deeply, she just nodded in response, cautious as she knew how it was going to sting like hell. Softly, he brushed the rag over her deep gash, pausing when she let out a barely-contained grunt of pain, before a short nod urged him to keep going. The blood was wiped off her face, the cool sensation somewhat wierd when compared to the stinging pain in her cheek. Whilst she dealt with the pain, she listened as Mason whispered to her. "I don't know if you need stitches for this. It's pretty deep… but at least it's not any worse."

"Well, you know me, I don't get off with simple injuries." She chuckled, wincing in pain as her brother continued to clean the wound. "It's gonna scar for sure, ain't no way around that, but I wasn't much of a looker to begin with."

"I think it'll make you look tough!" Dylan interjected, an amused tone to his voice. Mason didn't see the funny side to any of that, his face a stern expression when he put the lid back on the disinfectant, putting the bottle back in the box along with the rag before picking up the gauze, staring down at he as he pulled a face.

"We don't have any surgical tape, and it's in a pretty awkward position to try wrapping it in bandages." He explained. Charlotte looked down at the box, and sure enough Mason was right, there was no tape in there that would help. Trying to figure out a solution, she heard Dylan rustling behind her, not bothering to look behind her whilst she just scowled. Quickly, she saw something passing in the corner of her eye, turning her head to see Dylan, with a smirk, passing a roll of tape to Mason.

"Here." He offered, moving back when Mason took it. Staring down at it in his hands, she raised an eyebrow at the humour of it all. It wasn't no roll of surgical tape, rather something that you would use to tape pieces of paper together during arts and crafts, but it was better than nothing, and Mason obviously thought the exact same thing when he held the gauze over her wound.

"Hold this." He ordered, removing his hand when Charlotte reached up to keep the gauze in place, instead fiddling with the tape. Finally, he managed to get a strip off and started going to work with taping the gauze on his sister's face, Charlotte sitting there whilst keeping an eye out for any danger. The stinging in her cheek had started to die down, and she sighed in relief when her brother backed away, roll of tape still in hand, and smiled. "That should do it."

"Thanks. Come on, we better get movin' if we wanna find more supplies." Charlotte suggested, watching Mason as he took the box from her, jumping back into the back seats whilst she closed the car door, settling back into the driver's seat. Driving off once more, she noticed Dylan had finally lost his fight against sleep, and was snoring softly with the car engine humming along, a soft smile on her face as she watched his shoulders rise and fall gently with each breath he took.

Turning her attention to the road, she noticed junction coming up to them, ignoring the bent stop sign as she turned left, driving up the road in silence. Mason continued to play the music from his walkman, the song having changed for a softer beat, and Charlotte continued to tap her fingers to the rhythm, keeping an eye out for any signs that could tell them where they were going. Telegraph poles continued to pass them, the surroundings in the side windows all a blur as she drove along the road. Staring out into the distance, she read a sign that they were close to passing, reading off the dirty sign. _Mansfield Travel Plaza & Casino._

"Didn't dad take you to a casino once?" Mason asked, looking up at the same sign.

"Yeah. It was mostly so he didn't crash into a tree on the way home, but he did win around four hundred dollars… until he spent it on booze… and a new recliner… Oh, and he paid some of my parking ticket for me, that was sweet of him." She trailed off, a sad smile on her face as she remembered her father. He was a large fella, built like a barn with well kept handlebar mustache and a thick beard. Despite his intimidating appearance, he truly was a good man and a great father, wanting a life for his children outside of the farm he worked on all his life, just on the outskirts of Austin.

She remembered all the times he took her out with him when she reached eighteen, casinos, bars, the like, but he made sure that she didn't drink. One of them had to be the designated driver, and Charlotte prefered it that way. Her dad might have drunk a lot when he was out, but he was one of those happy drunks that end up paying for a large group of friends he somehow knows, often telling her they were from the good old days when he was a single man. That said, he loved her mother more than anything else in the world. Missing him terribly, she listened as Mason laughed. "Do you remember what mama was like when you brought him home from those nights out?"

"How could I forget? 'Charlie, I told you a hundred times not to take your father drinking, now he's puking in the pig's trough!'" she mimicked in a mexican accent, chuckling afterwards when she added. "She may have been a pain in the ass sometimes, but I do miss her."

"I do, too. I'm sorry for panicking when she got bit… I-I should have been helping you and Liz, not running away." Mason apologized.

A frown replaced Charlotte's smirk, her face showing sympathy clearly as she glanced up in the mirror, noticing Mason staring down at the walkman in his hands, the thing turned off whilst they were talking. The car was in silence, and the stiffened posture Dylan was sleeping in alerted her that he wasn't quite as asleep as she was led to believe. Quietly, she replied. "Don't beat yourself up about it, Mason. You're just a kid. Mama wouldn't want y'all beating yourselves over it, you and Dylan. She's not one of those monsters, at least…"

"You think dad woulda lived if he stayed with us?" he asked, finally looking up to meet Charlotte's gaze in the mirror.

"We can't think like that, buddy." She sighed, moving her eyes back on the road as she started to explain to her younger brother. "Sometimes, things happen and we wish we can change them. We look back and think 'If I just did this, then they'd be alive'... I was the same when Liz died. Dad chose to take my motorbike and go find help… we can't change what happened to him. Do you understand?"

Mason paused for a moment, glancing down at his map resting on his lap as he nodded. "Yeah. I do."

"Good…" she trailed off, paying attention to the road as the trees, houses and other buildings passed by, noticing a large building in the distance with a makeshift wall wrapped around, separating the town from the building and the car park. Glancing up at the sign, she noticed that it was in fact the Walmart, her stomach twisting as they pulled up close. Braking slowly, she sat in the car for a moment, sharing a worried look with Mason before she quietly ordered him. "Stay in the car, buddy. I'll only be a minute."

Nodding, he stayed put whilst watching her exiting the car. Standing up straight, she kept a hand on the open car door as she stared up the wall, nervously glancing around her surroundings. It was eerily quiet, the breeze blowing softly through the street, and she could see that they were on the route 509, the road stretching off into the distance. After a few seconds, she noticed someone appearing by a gate leading into the community, the gate creaking loudly as she turned to it. The person by it was a large-built man, his baseball cap covering his light brown hair as he glanced over at her, his voice calm as he asked her. "You lost, miss?"

"I didn't think this would be occupied." She confessed, closing the car door before she walked closer to the man. "I was hoping you could spare something? My family and I are driving up to North Carolina, and we need food, water, medical supplies to make it that far."

"Damn, that's quite a distance there, miss." The man whistled, glancing inside the gate for a moment, most likely looking at someone inside the walled off community that she couldn't see. Rubbing her upper arm, she glanced back at the car, noticing that Dylan had woken up and was watching her with a worried expression, glancing between her and the man. Mutters could be heard behind her, and she turned back around to face the stranger when he continued. "I'm sorry, but we can't spare anything for you. We're going through a shortage right now after a bandit attack last week."

Her stomach twisted at the mention of bandits, her pleading face must have been noticeable as the man sighed, rubbing the nape of his neck as he explained. "Look, it ain't like I don't have a heart, and you look like you've been through some shit, but we barely have enough for our own people."

"I'm desperate… please, can you spare some food at the least?" she pleaded, moving closer to the man.

"I know it's difficult for you and your kids, and I feel real bad for turning you away, but my boss is clear. Anyone who comes this way has to be sent on their way." He rejected, backing up past the gate and putting his hand up it, slowly closing it as he bid farewell. "Good luck out there. I hope you find something."

The gate closed in front of him, leaving Charlotte alone and afraid. Staring at the wall, she glanced up, noticing that the sun was falling down and night time would soon come, her anger getting the best of her as she smacked her hands against the scrap metal, the sound echoing along with her yell of frustration. Standing there, head leaning against the wall, she waited for a few minutes before she pulled herself away. Her family didn't have any time to waste on her moping. Moving back to the car, she paused when the gate opened again, a younger teen girl rushing past with a duffle bag in her hand. Jogging over to Charlotte, the latter paused as she watched, staring at the duffle bag as the teen threw it to the floor.

Glancing behind her nervously, the young girl apologized. "I'm sorry about my dad. It's just been hard times recently, but I packed some shit in there for you and your kids. Some cans, a bottle, and some shampoo if you find a nearby lake or river to wash in. No one wants to walk around smelling, right?"

Quickly, Charlotte grabbed the duffle bag, looking up with a thankful expression. "Thank you, but your dad told me that your people don't have enough supplies for them, won't you get in trouble?"

"We'll be fine. You sounded like you got a long way to go, so you're gonna need those supplies more than I do. Good luck, and be safe." The young girl brushed off, rushing back into the walled off community with the gate closing behind her. Backing up with the duffle bag clutched tightly, she turned around and ran back to the car, opening the back door to pass Mason the bag, before she closed the door again. Entering the car through the driver's door, she sat down in the chair and turned the ignition, starting off again before the survivors in the Walmart changed their mind.

Driving down the road, she stared off into the distance, seeing nothing but trees on both sides of the road whilst Mason searched through the bag handed to him, Dylan glancing behind him to see what they got. Slowly, he glanced up at Charlotte as he confessed. "I thought they weren't gonna give us anything."

"That's what I was told by the guy, but his daughter obviously didn't agree… It doesn't matter, we got the stuff now." Charlotte brushed off, hearing Mason pull out something.

Softly, he gasped at the reveal. "Soap! Thank god, I hate smelling like a hobo!"

Charlotte smiled at the childlike joy at such a simple thing, unable to remember the last time any of them washed. With a joyful tone, she replied. "We'll wash up the next chance we get, but for now, our next stop is North Carolina."


	4. Uncertain Futures

It was late into the night when Charlotte finally stopped, parking up by a small river flowing right alongside the highway, the waters calm and clear, reflecting the stars shining up above. Filling up the canteen and empty bottles she had, Charlotte sat beside the river, taking in the beautiful sights whilst her brothers got ready to sleep for the night. Listening as they talked to each other quietly and the crackle of the campfire they had set up, she packed the bottles away, keeping the canteen with her as she took a large gulp, wiping the corner of her mouth with the sleeve of her jacket, before throwing it in with the other supplies. Glancing down at her reflection, she stared at the gauze taped onto her face, slender fingers moving up to gently touch the soft fabric, and in the back of her mind she could hear the gunshots going off.

Closing her eyes, she turned her head away from the reflection, instead opening her eyes to stare at the car parked nearby, the keys tucked safely in her pocket. It was dangerous sleeping outside of the vehicle, but it was a beautiful night and she didn't want it to go to waste. Softly, she heard Dylan call to her from behind. "I can take first watch."

"It's alright, I got it." She rejected, trying her best to stifle a yawn. She didn't look at her brother as she got ready for the first watch, stretching with a low groan in her throat, her fingers curling into fists as the fatigue set in. It had been almost two days since she last slept. She could feel her eyes trying to close, and fought to stay awake, wanting her brothers to get some sleep and didn't feel safe letting one of them keep watch whilst she slept.

Instead, she just grabbed the shotgun she left by her side, and turned so that her back was to the river, able to see all around her in case of any danger lurking in the forest. The highway was just behind the thick cover of trees, Charlotte having driven off it to prevent anyone from finding their vehicle. When morning came, they would set off again, but until then it was safe enough to get a few hours of sleep. Softly, she heard Mason yawn, his voice tired as he mumbled. "Good night, Charlie."

"Sleep tight, buddy." She replied, watching her brothers settle down in their sleeping bags, leaving her alone with just her thoughts to keep her company. The smell of walker blood wafted into her nose, almost making her gag, and she glanced down at her dirty jacket, unzipping it as she grumbled. "I ain't keeping this on whilst it smelling something awful."

Carefully, as to not disturb her brothers, she removed the jacket, keeping it as far away from her as possible. Turning around to the river, she dunked the jacket in the water, watching as she tried to scrub the blood out of the fabric, grunting in annoyance when the fluid proved difficult to remove. The water was dyed slightly red, only for the colour to be washed away by the flowing river. Eventually, she was satisfied with the result, pulling the jacket out of the river and standing up, walking over to the fire before she quickly frowned, noticing how low the flames were getting.

"Shit." She quietly swore, placing the soaking jacket on the ground as she glanced around. "I should gather some firewood."

Walking towards the line of trees, she kept her eyes on the ground, on the lookout for any sticks or logs that had fallen. The forests at this time of night were silent, eerily so, with only the wind blowing through the trees causing any noise, the branches bending slightly up above her. All the leaves had been shedded, crunched under her thick boots and soaked with the rains that kept pouring through the winter season, Charlotte at least thankful that it wasn't snow. She didn't know what to do when they reached the colder states. Unnerved, she slowly gathered twigs, sticks, anything she could find, grabbing a large log as well.

Arms ached from the events of the previous day, the muscles in her limbs tensed painfully as she carried her findings back, freezing when she heard a crack from within the forest, sounding almost like a twig being stepped on. Eyes trained on the direction of the sound, she slowly made her way over to her shotgun, crouching low when she reached her weapon. It wouldn't have been any survivors, they wouldn't have waited for her to reach her weapon before springing the trap, and walkers would have just kept moving even if they gave their position away. It was something else.

Quietly, she placed the firewood down, her hand creeping over to her shotgun, and she rose up quickly, aiming the shotgun in the direction of the sound. The wind had stopped blowing, leaving the surroundings in a nerve-wrecking silence. Just standing there, she didn't move a muscle, feeling her heart beating faster from the perceived threat, and when nothing came out of the forest, she lowered her weapon. On edge, her lips pulled together into a thin line, her eyes narrowed before she just shook her head, holding the gun in one hand whilst she grabbed some of the firewood with the other.

Whistling a tune to entertain herself, she leisurely made her way over to the dying campfire, placing the shotgun down beside her as she got to work. Pulling the lighter out of her pocket, she turned to her backpack, dragging it closer to her as she rummaged through its content. Quickly, she found some paper to burn, pulling it out and holding it in one hand, flicking the lighter open with the other hand. Striking the stone, she watched as a small flame appeared, bringing it over and burning the paper. With that burning, she shoved it down onto the bottom of the campfire, watching as the flames grew larger, though they were still too low.

Gently, she continued to add the twigs and sticks she gathered, using a large one to turn the wood around, allowing the flames to burn through the provided fuel and grow. The heat of the fire warmed her body, her hands moving to in front of her as she rubbed them, feeling the coldness melting away from her fingers. She could feel the temperature dropping over the autumn season, worrying that soon winter would be on them, and the depleting source of food was one of the major problems they were facing. On cue, her stomach growled loudly, her hand pressed against it as she grumbled under her breath, turning back to her bag.

Taking out the small bag of supplies that Samantha had stolen, she grabbed a bag of jerky, staring down at it as her mouth watered, her stomach twisting painfully. Shoving the bag back in her backpack, she opened the bag of jerky, devouring its contents in an attempt to calm her growing hunger. Glancing over at her sleeping brothers, she watched as their chests rose and fell with their breathing, wondering what they were dreaming about. Finishing the jerky, she couldn't help but feel disappointed with the amount in the bag, but was happy enough that her hunger was calmed, if only for a while.

Shoving the rubbish in her backpack, she closed it up, preventing the smell from attracting any wildlife in the area. Full and warm, she couldn't stop the fatigue from setting in even more, her eyes closing momentarily before she forced them back open. Slowly, she lost the fight, and her eyes shut once more, the young woman lying down beside the fire and asleep before she knew it.

"Charlie, wake up!" A voice called out. Groaning quietly, her eyes opened up again, a deep frown on her face at being woken up. The annoyance she was feeling disappeared when her vision cleared, instead replaced with confusion as she slowly sat up, feeling a heavy weight on top of her, the weight slipping down to her waist. Glancing down, she realised that the weight was a blanket, a soft mattress underneath her replacing the cold, hard ground she was used to sleeping on.

"What the fuck?" she swore quietly, pulling the blanket off her as she swung her legs off the the bed, flinching when bare skin touched a cold wooden floor. When she finally looked around the room, she recognized it immediately. Soft cream walls, decorated with certificates and family pictures, she stared at one framed certificate. Her undergraduate diploma, she remembered getting that just before the apocalypse, recalling the party that her family threw afterwards.

Picking it off the wall, she stared down at it, confused why she was back in her old room. With it in her hands, she looked up at the curtains covering her window, standing up and, quickly, pulled them back, squinting as the sunlight poured into the small room. Once her eyes adjusted to the light, she stared out at the surroundings outside her home, everything the exact same as it was when she was last there. She didn't know what to think, and when she placed her diploma back on the wall, she shook her head. "Was all that just a dream?"

She was relieved. All the things she did, all that she seen, and the dangers that her remaining family was in, it wasn't real. However, if none of what happened was real, then she didn't meet Samantha, and she most likely didn't know who Charlotte even was. Saddened by that, she jumped when she heard the voice call out again. "Charlotte María Davis-Hernandez, your father told you to get up five minutes ago!"

"Coming, mama!" she called back, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes as she made her way to the door, opening it to find Dylan standing there, his hand raised in an attempt to know on her door. Staring down at him, she placed a hand on his head, ruffling his hair affectionately as she smiled. "Morning, buddy."

"You're in a good mood," he pointed out, fixing his dark locks as he quickly added. "You're usually a bitch in the morning."

Recalling the events of the last few days, she frowned slightly, her fingers reaching up to her cheek. No gauze could be felt on her face, her skin smooth and uninjured before she allowed her hand to fall back to her side, instead brushing it off when she noticed Dylan standing there confused. "I just had a weird dream, that's all."

"Oh, what was it about?" he asked, a bright grin on his face. "Was I in it?"

"Pretty much, yeah. It was nothing, just about the dead coming back to life and we were running away from some bad people. It was… unsettling how real it felt." She confessed, noting Dylan's eyebrow raising as she quietly added. "No smart comments. I don't even know why I dreamt that."

"Were you watching any zombie movies last night with dad?" he asked, his grin quickly disappearing as she pushed him out of the way, an annoyed grunt coming from him as he yelled after her. "Mama told you to stop pushing me around!"

"Mama's not here." She shot back, walking along the hallway towards the staircase. Stopping at the top of the flight of stairs, she stared at the family portraits hanging along the wall going down, continuing to stare at each one as she made her way down the staircase. They all detailed the years gone by, the family growing older and bigger with the picture at the top of the staircase showing Elizabeth, a young Charlotte and their parents, her father showing none of the grey hairs he developed later on in life. As she reached the bottom, she stared at the final portrait.

Both her and Elizabeth towered over their mother, a short, stout woman with tanned skin and black hair pulled into a tight bun, warm brown eyes squinted as she smiled. Her father, with his thick handlebar mustache neatly kept and balding head, was the only one taller than Charlotte and Elizabeth, his large hands resting on Dylan and Mason's shoulders. They were all smiling, happy, and her constricting heart made her realise just how much she missed them. Before she could allow tears to fall, she heard a familiar voice behind her. "You don't get to the kitchen quick, dad's gonna eat all of mama's pancakes."

Turning around, she stood there in shock, staring at the person in front of her. Elizabeth hadn't changed, save for a few scars missing on her face. The same mousy brown hair, sharp blue eyes, and slightly tanned skin matching Charlotte's own, she was definitely her sister. Without a second thought, Charlotte lurched forward, wrapping her arms around Elizabeth in a tight hug, resting her face against her sibling's shoulder. Staying like this, she listened as Elizabeth confusingly asked. "Erm, what's all this about?"

"N-Nothing." Charlotte composed herself, letting her sister go and letting out an awkward cough, rubbing the nape of her neck with a small grin. "I just wanted to do that."

"Okay…" Elizabeth trailed off, an amused smile on her face. Rather than stand there, her sibling started making her way to the door, adding quickly. "I gotta go change the oil on dad's tractor, before he blows a gasket over it. Come out when you're done with breakfast."

"You know I don't know a thing about changing tractors." She shot back, a frown on her face.

Elizabeth stopped in her tracks, turning her upper body as she smirked, knowing that Charlotte was basically useless on the farm. "You're a student, aren't you? Learn."

And then she was gone. Charlotte stood there, arms crossed with an annoyed look on her face, before it slowly disappeared. No matter how much Elizabeth grated on her, she was just happy that her sibling was back, knowing what life would be like without her sister there by her side. Listening to voices coming from the kitchen, she turned around, walking down the hallway to the door leading into the room. Pausing, she inhaled deeply, calming her nerves before she pushed the door open, a nervous look on her face.

Immediately, the smell of cooking hit her, causing her stomach to growl loudly in want, and she found her mouth watering at the sight of steaming pancakes sitting in the middle of the large kitchen table. At one end of the table, her father was sitting there, a newspaper in hand as he skimmed through, a pen stuck on the top of his ear whilst he changed the page. By the sink, washing dishes, was her mother, her once black hair greyed and her face wrinkled when she turned to her daughter, her stern expression softening when she saw the nervousness on Charlotte's face.

"Don't look so scared, mija. I just wanted to make sure you ate before your father dragged you off hunting." She laughed, leaving the dishes to dry as she grabbed one of the chairs, pulling it back and slowly sitting down as she added, concern in her voice. "Dear, what's wrong?"

"No, it's n-nothing. Just bad dreams, that's all." Charlotte brushed off, sitting down slowly as she stared at the pancakes. It had been months since she had those, and she never forgotten how they tasted, grabbing some and placing them on a plate left at her seat, slathering some jam on them before digging in.

"I told you and all y'all friends not to watch scary movies before bed." Her father injected, taking a sip of his coffee with an amused smirk on his face.

Charlotte narrowed her eyes at him, pausing in her eating as she sighed loudly. "Cut me some slack, dad, I'm twenty three years old!"

"You know, when I was your age," her father started, earning a groan from Charlotte as she just kept eating, ignoring him as he continued to stare at his paper. "I was already married to your mother, and we were expecting your sister."

"If you want grandkids, I can call Daniel over right now and get started." She retorted, her mouth full of pancakes and jam. The joke caused her father to frown deeply, his daughter quickly adding. "Look, when I finally get the lawyer job I've been after, I can settle down. Won't be for another few years."

"Who's going to do all the housework if you're out in work all the time? Cooking, cleaning, taking care of the children?" Her mother asked, interrupting Charlotte when she tried to reply sarcastically. "I've seen Daniel try to fold his clothes. That man can't take care of himself, let alone a child."

"Mama, you don't give him a chance, that's why." Charlotte pointed out, finishing a pancake and recalled a particular incident between her boyfriend and her mother. "And if I recall, he did the washing just fine. You were the one who took all the clothes and washed them again, and you ironed them as well."

"I just wanted to make sure they were throughly clean, mija." Her mother explained. Charlotte just shook her head at that, continuing to eat her food in silence. Taking the hint, her mother sighed and returned to the dishes, leaving her daughter along to finish her breakfast. The sound of running water replaced any conversation, Charlotte watching her mother's hands scrubbing the plates clean, the soap being washed off by the water. Whilst she did that, her father finally finished reading the newspaper, folding it up and throwing it onto the table, leaning back in his chair as he continued slurping from his cup.

Finishing off her pancakes, she placed her fork and knife on the empty plate, taking it over to the sink and passing it to her mother, who took it wordlessly. With a raised eyebrow, she decided to just leave it be, making her way to the door again when her father called out. "Where you goin'?"

"Liz needs help changing the oil in the tractor." She explained, pausing at the door and turning back to the older man.

Shaking his head, he quickly stood up, the chair squeaking with the legs dragging across the floor, and made his way over to the grown woman. His large hand pressed against her shoulder, and she was forced to move aside as he rejected. "No, don't think so. Last time you worked on something, you crashed into the pig pen and almost killed Moon Dance."

"Elizabeth left the clutch on and you know it." Charlotte shot back, following her father out of the kitchen and back down the hall, ignoring the pictures on the wall whilst he moved to open the door, only to pause with his hand holding onto the handle. Standing there, Charlotte stared at his back in confusion, trying to alleviate the nervousness she was feeling as she joked. "You gotta turn the handle to open the door."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." He sighed, before he turned around. "I'm sorry about your mother and I being so hard on you. We just wanna make sure y'all able to look after yourself when we eventually do go."

"Come on, you got some good years left in you." She joked, though the thought of her father leaving her again struck her deeply. She didn't want him to go, nor her mother or her sister. She just got them back. Standing there, she watched her father scratch his thick beard.

"I know your stay here is only short, then it's back to Houston, and you know I want the best for you… but I just wanna make sure you'll be here for your brothers. They look up to you, Mason especially." He explained, crossing his arms as he leaned against the door. "You're the reason he got that idea of going to medical school from."

"Don't worry, dad. I'll take care of them." She promised, smiling warmly as her father returned the gesture. Slowly, he stood up straight, turning back around to the door as he chuckled deeply.

"Alright, enough mushy shit. We gotta fix that tractor before Liz starts getting mad with the thing." He smirked, his hand reaching for the door handle once more. Charlotte stood closer to him, taking in his smell of his favourite deodorant, and when he opened the door, she was blinded by bright light flooding her entire vision. Eyes shutting tightly, she raised a hand to shade them from the blinding light, unable to see her father anymore. Suddenly, the light faded out, and she was left in darkness. Unsure where she was, she glanced around, walking along with a saddened expression on her face.

"I love you." She whispered, reaching up to touch her cheek once more. Rather than her smooth skin, she felt the soft fabric of the gauze taped to her face, realising that everything that happened was not just a dream. It was real.

Gasping, she sat up, feeling grass under her fingers and the cold hitting her full force, goose bumps appearing over her exposed skin as she rubbed her arms. Looking around her, she noticed that morning had come around, the sun peeking out from the tall trees towering over them, the darkness fading away from the sky above. Grunting, she slowly stood up, hearing fire crackling from behind her, turning her head to see her brothers tending to the camp fire, something cooking over it. Confused, she took a closer look, listening as Dylan explained. "We found and killed some crabs along the river. Dig in."

"Fresh meat. I haven't had any in so long!" Charlotte gasped, walking over to the campfire as Mason, eating a crab leg, passed her the jacket she left by the fire last night.

"It's dried. How come you didn't wake one of us to take over watch last night?" he asked, tearing the meat off the leg. Dylan continued to eat his food, though he watched with an annoyed expression on his face.

Taking the jacket, she sighed as she slipped it back on, zipping it up before she explained. "I fell asleep not long after you guys did. I'm sorry, I guess I was just so exhausted."

"No doubt, you were awake for two days." Dylan pointed out, throwing the crab shell away when he was finished with it. Charlotte just sat there, tucking into a crab that Dylan passed over to her, listening as he continued. "When you're done, we should head out. I saw some walkers when I did some scouting before."

"You left the camp?" she asked, pausing in her attempt to eat as she sighed. "Dylan, I know you wanna help, but it's dangerous out there."

"I was careful! I made sure no one saw me, and the walkers were distracted with something when I had to cross the highway." He groaned, shaking his head as he snapped. "I'm not arguing about this. Not now."

"I'm not trying to argue about it, Dylan. Did you see what the walkers were distracted with?" she asked, pulling off a crab leg and eating it quickly, eager to pack up and continue on their way. It was too dangerous to remain in one place for too long. Dylan appeared thoughtful, tapping his fingers against his thigh until, furrowing his eyebrows, he realised.

"I think it was survivors. Their truck broke down, and the walkers were surrounding them…" He paused, appearing unnerved with his findings, and Charlotte frowned, feeling suspicion creeping up on her.

"Dylan, what did you see?" she pressed, worried with how quiet he fell.

Breathing deeply, he calmed himself down, closing his eyes. After a few moments, he opened them again, and stared at Charlotte, worried and scared about what she'd say, before he finally confessed. "I think it was Logan. The group isn't far from getting us."

Panic set in. Throwing the crab away, she jumped to her feet, grabbing her backpack as, with a panicked voice, she ordered her concerned brothers. "Get your stuff ready. We gotta go _now._ "

They jumped up. As she grabbed the shotgun left on the ground, her hand rummaged in her pocket for the car keys, pulling them out as she unlocked the car on the other side of the camp, hearing the car beep. Rushing over to the vehicle, she opened the back door, throwing her backpack in as her brothers, having packed everything, ran over. Mason dived into the back seat, watching in fear as Dylan got in the passenger seat, taking Charlotte's keys as she noticed a canteen having fallen out of her bag. Quickly, she ran over, picking it up from the ground, and moved to return to the vehicle.

That was when she heard groans. Freezing, she saw walkers shambling out of the woods, milky white eyes staring straight at her as they growled loudly, their intentions clear. Backing away, she felt her feet skim on the edge of the river bank, the dirt crumbling under her soles as she balanced herself, eyes trained on the walkers moving forward. There were too many of them to fight alone. She didn't understand how they could creep up on them without her hearing, but she didn't want to wait around for answers. Lifting the shotgun, she aimed at the closest one, when suddenly the car slammed into them, crushing some of the corpses under its wheels.

Confused, she saw that Dylan had gotten into the driver's seat, the passenger door open as he yelled to her. "Get in!"

Her legs moved on their own, no thought coming from her brain as she just ran for the open door, diving in as Dylan drove off, closing the door behind her to stop it being wrenched off by the trees they were speeding towards. Breathing heavily, she sat back, watching as they drove up the small path they found that led straight back to the motor way. The walkers were long behind them, their slow movements unable to keep up with the fast vehicle. Their car skidded across the tarmac, the wheels screeching as they tried to make a quick getaway, and up ahead Charlotte could see a truck rammed into the side of the highway, the walkers enjoying a feast from it.

Unnerved, she got a better look as the car drove by, her stomach churning when she saw a familiar face amongst the carnage. The little girl's face, who Charlotte recognized as Grace, was lying on the road, her eyes staring out in a permanent state of fear whilst the undead feasted on her organs, intestines being ripped out and consumed. None of the others seemed to have made it, Michelle, Nathan, they were all just corpses lying on the ground, waiting for the walkers to consumed them or to come back as one of those things. Charlotte was unable to look at the carnage anymore, turning away as Dylan kept driving down the road, dodging the cars and other obstacles that littered the highway.

"At least we don't have to worry about them finding us anymore." He pointed out, sounding unaffected by their deaths.

"You could sound even a little bit sad that they died like that." Charlotte sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose with her finger and thumb. "They were our friends."

"Yeah, _were_. Don't forget, they're the reason Sam's dead!" The young teen snapped, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white as he barely controlled his anger.

"That doesn't mean they deserved that! Jesus, Dylan, Grace was just as old as you were! She didn't have a choice in all of this, just like us! You saying she deserved to be eaten alive by those things?!" she hissed, feeling a headache come on.

Dylan didn't appreciate that, his head turning to glare at her as he yelled back. "That's not fucking fair! It's either her or us, and I'd rather have us survive than those murdering fuckers!"

"Guys, come on." Mason spoke up, concerned with how heated the argument was getting. "What happened was terrible, but we can't tear chunks out of each other because of-"

"Mason, stay out of this!" Dylan hissed, turning to face his twin with a scowl. "You always do this! You always take Charlotte's side in our fights, why can't you just stick up for me _once?!"_

"Dylan, eyes on the road!" Charlotte snapped, watching as he snapped his head back, eyes trained on the road whilst gritting his teeth. She wanted to end the argument there, she really did, but the anger and fear she was feeling just set her nerves on edge, and she finally exploded. "I know what your problem is! You don't stop and think about what your actions will cause, you just storm in like a bull in a china shop, no regards for anyone else! You think I like having to be the one in charge here?!"

"You fucking keep flaunting it! Ever since Liz died, you've been on my case! All I ever wanted to do, what I'm doing right now, is _fucking help!"_ he shouted, turning to face Charlotte as he added. "Look around you, there's nothing for us out here! How do you even know if Aunt Abigail and Uncle Joe are even in North Carolina anymore?!"

"You were the one who fucking suggested going up there!" Charlotte retorted, recalling the conversation back at the pit stop.

"We gotta try. Even if they aren't there, we could try finding other people. People we can trust." Mason suggested, a worried frown on his tired face.

"Trust? There ain't nobody out here that you can trust! You want another Logan situation?!" Dylan scoffed, shaking his head whilst Mason flinched away, leaning back in his seat with a hurt expression on his face.

Watching this, Charlotte glared at the driver, her voice harsh as she snapped. "I agree with Mason."

"That doesn't surprise me." Dylan shot back sarcastically.

"If they aren't there, we should try and find people, a group. We're too vulnerable out here on our own." She explained, trying to calm the situation down as she sighed, her voice calm and gentle as she continued. "Look, I don't wanna argue anymore. I just want to have a plan so you guys are safe."

Dylan didn't reply, rather staring down at his hands with a saddened look, obviously worn down by the constant arguing and near death experiences since the beginning of the plague. Staring at him, she wondered how much more he can take, worried that eventually he would snap, and things will go downhill from there. Fixing her eyes on him, she tried to get him to talk, to open up, and asked quietly. "Dylan, you know I love you, right?"

Nodding, he listened as she continued. "I'm only being so strict with you because you and your brother are all I have left. I would do anything to keep both of you safe, and yeah, maybe I am still treating you as a kid, but that's because the last time someone I loved tried to be the adult, they died. Now, I gotta be the adult, so please, just trust me-"

"Look out!" Mason cried. Charlotte looked up, spotting the a walker that had stumbled onto the middle of the road, her hands moving on their own as she grabbed the steering wheel. Dylan yelled out in fright, trying his best to control the car as it slammed straight into the corpse, it flying over the bonnet and collapsing in the road, the vehicle swerving out of control.

"Charlie!" Dylan yelled, watching as she tried to control their car, hitting the brake hard in a vain attempt to stop them. The car screeched loudly, and Charlotte only saw the truck for a split moment before they plowed right into it. Everything went dark for a moment.

Slowly, the light returned to her vision, the back of her eyes aching as Charlotte groaned, realising that she was leaning against the dashboard. Sitting up, she rubbed her head, feeling a sting in her lip as she brought her fingers to them, feeling the knowing sign of blood as she pulled her fingers away, seeing them stained in the warm fluid. Everywhere ached. Looking up, she saw the front of their car completely smashed, the windshield shattered to pieces, and panic hit her straight in the gut. Glancing over at the driver's seat, she saw Dylan lying against the wheel, the sound of the horn going off as he pressed against the button.

"Dylan…" she whispered, slowly pushing him off the wheel and inspecting his wounds. There wasn't too much damage, the broken glass cut his cheek slightly, the blood dripping from the small wound, and his nose was bleeding, having been broken by colliding with the steering wheel. Cursing under her breath, she glanced behind her, noticing that Mason was sitting there, unable to move or speak from the shock, before he slowly managed to call out to her.

"Charlie, a-are you alright?!" he gasped, glancing over at Dylan. "Dylan! O-Oh, god!"

"We gotta get out, buddy. The noise will have attracted walkers, no doubt. Grab everything from the back, I'll get Dylan." Charlotte explained, opening the passenger door. Mason nodded, grabbing the bags and his map, shoving that and his walkman in his backpack before opening the back door. With him taking care of the supplies, Charlotte crawled over, grabbing hold of Dylan's jacket and proceeding to drag him from the driver's seat, grunting at the strain as she felt the headache pounding in the back of her head.

Slowly, she managed to get herself out of the car, dragging Dylan to the passenger seat, before picking him up in her arms. He was heavy, but she could manage for a while. However, once they were safely out the car, she noticed the hoard of walkers stumbling towards them, the undead coming from different directions. Backing up, she glanced down at Mason, who looking around, spotted an opening into the woods. Running in that direction, he called back to her. "This way!"

She followed. Both panting, in pain, and frightened of what would happen, they fled into the woods. Charlotte kept running, watching the trees pass by them and the crows calling out, eager for more dead meat to scavenge. She didn't know where they were going, instead just following after Mason as he ran ahead, seeing that the young teen was slowing down, exhausted from lack of good sleep and food. They couldn't stop. With danger lurking just behind them, they kept running until Charlotte's legs almost gave out, the young woman stumbling, clutching onto Dylan's body as she steadied herself.

Seeing his sister lag behind, Mason stopped, panting heavily, and made his way back to her side. Staring at Dylan in her arms, he quietly asked her. "Is he gonna be alright?"

"I-I… I don't know." She confessed, worried for the safety of her injured brother. "Either way, we can't stop here. There's a road up ahead, maybe we can get our bearings there."

"That's a good idea. Come on." Mason agreed, taking the lead whilst Charlotte followed close behind. Staring down at Dylan's unconscious face, she could see that his expression was calm, almost peaceful, and his soft breathing assured her that he still lived. Both of the conscious survivors were exhausted, their feet dragging along the leaf covered ground, the fallen leaves crunching under her thick boots.

The wind blew harshly, chilling both of them to the bone. Shivering, she watched as the road came closer and closer, worried about the unseen dangers there, and once they reached the outskirts of the woods they were hiding in, she stopped Mason. The young teen shared the same thought, warily peering out of the trees to see if there was any danger, ready to spring back into the safety of the woods if he spotted something he didn't like. Standing behind him, she couldn't see anything out there, and slowly, both of them creeped out of the woods, standing on the edge of the road whilst MAson placed his backpack on the floor, taking out his map.

"Do you know where we are?" he asked, staring at his map in confusion.

"There's no signs. If Mansfield is that way," Charlotte muttered, looking in the direction they came from. "That means we were travelling east, that way… Anything on the map that points east?"

"We were on the Interstate 20, and we went off that… Hmm, I think there's a small town along this road. We could stop there and rest." Mason suggested, placing the map back in his backpack as he added. "Give us some time to decide what we're gonna do."

"Come on, then." Charlotte replied, walking down the long road with Mason trailing after her, Dylan passed out in her arms.

The morning passed by, the sun beaming high in the sky by the time Charlotte spotted something in the distance. Abandoned construction vehicles were abandoned by the side of the road, the chain link fence having been torn down by walkers and the trailers that were behind them boarded up, bodies found lying on the floor as the small group passed by. On edge, she decided against resting there, feeling that somehow, those corpses weren't entirely dead. Rather, they kept moving, and walking down the road further, they passed by a construction site, the dirt upturned and the buildings half-finished, left by the builders once the dead started rising and eating people.

Glancing up at a large digger, Mason paused, and turned his head to ask his sister. "You think these would be good for squishing walkers?"

"I'd give my left arm for that steam roller. Watch any walker trying to ram us off the road." She joked, staring down at Dylan, the young boy still passed out. "I'm worried. He should have woken up by now."

By the look of Mason's face, she could tell that he agreed, and the worry she was feeling grew stronger, twisting her gut as she tried to lift his spirits. "Maybe he just needs some time. He did hit his head pretty hard."

"I'm worried. What if it's caused problems for him?" he asked, staring at his brother with a concerned expression. "We need to find somewhere for him to rest, at least until he's strong enough to keep moving."

Nodding in agreement, she turned around and continued walking down the road, Mason walking by her side. The silence was thick, neither one of them wanting to talk anymore. All Charlotte could do was replay the same moment over and over again, the sound of the car screeching and his brothers' yells clear in the back of her mind, the darkness that consumed her vision as the loud crash pounded against her eardrums. She just wanted the noise to stop. Quickly, she spotted a house in the background, a lone bungalow with the garden overgrown, the driveway clear of any vehicles or bodies. It would be the perfect place to stay put, if only for a while.

"Over there. You see it?" she asked Mason, staring at it whilst waiting for her brother's reply.

After a few moments, she heard him respond. "Yeah. I see it."

"A good place as any to rest. Let's go." With that, she broke out into a jog, eager to get inside and rest up. Her face was killing, the blood from her lip having dried by then, but she could only guess what infections were getting into it, unable to clean it with having to run from danger every five minutes. Reaching the end of the driveway, she glanced up at the boarded windows, her lips pulled into a thin line as she cautiously approached the front door, having Mason open it. He jiggled the knob, trying to push the door open, and could only sigh in frustration as he backed off, glaring at the door.

"It's locked." He pointed out.

"Shit. Alright, looks like we gotta find another way in." She groaned, glancing at all the windows. "They're boarded up tight. We ain't getting through that way."

"Let's check around the back." Mason suggested, starting to walk around the home. Charlotte followed after him, keeping a tight hold on Dylan as he began squirming, staring down to see him finally open his eyes. Quietly, she hushed his pained cries, her voice gentle as she whispered.

"Don't worry, buddy. We're gonna get you inside in a minute." Walking alongside the home, she looked up, noticing Mason rushing around the corner, and jogged to keep up with him, snapping at him. "Dammit, Mason. Wait up!"

Turning around the corner, she spotted him at the back door, staring at a back window likely leading into the kitchen. Noticing her approach, he turned to her, a warm smile on his face, as he pointed at the window. "Someone forgotten a window. It's open, but I can't reach it."

"Good job, Mason. Hang on, I'll boost you up." She praised, kneeling down so that she could prop Dylan up against the side of the house, unsure whether to leave him when he groaned in pain. However, they needed to get inside, and so she stood back up again, knitting her hands together as she instructed him. "Alright, place your foot in my hands and I'll boost you up."

Nodding, he approached her, placing his trainer in her hands whilst holding onto her shoulder for balance, both of them grunting as she lifted him up. Propping his other foot on the window sill, he grabbed hold of the window, his foot in Charlotte's hands being lifted as he hauled himself through the open window. Backing off, she watched as he slipped inside, his legs disappearing from view, and the window was closed behind him. Turning her attention back to Dylan, she picked him up in her arms, his head resting against her shoulder as she muttered to him. "Hang on, buddy. I'll get you inside."

Suddenly, she heard the latch on the back door unlock, walking up the stairs to it as Mason opened the door, a smile on his face. "Let's get in before the walkers show up."

"Thanks, Mason." She replied, walking into the home as her brother closed the door again, locking it up tight to prevent anyone else from getting inside. The kitchen was quite large, the table covered in a tattered blue and white checkered cloth, the dishes left on top with flies buzzing around, what little food left on them rotten. Grimacing at the smell, she elected to leave the plates alone, instead making her way out of the kitchen.

"I'm gonna see if the people who were here before left anything for us." Mason explained, staying in the kitchen whilst Charlotte nodded, looking at the other doors, seeing which one led to a bedroom. A half open one caught her eye, the adult survivor walking over and pushing it open gently, cautious in case there was anything in there. Peeking from behind the door, she noticed two single beds pushed against the walls, a bedside desk sitting between them with a knocked over lamp, the quilts dirty and unmade.

Walking over, she placed Dylan in one of the beds, kneeling down as she took off his shoes and jacket, leaving them on the other bed, before pulling the quilt over him. Slowly, she listened as he groaned. "W-What happened?"

"We crashed the car." She explained, resting a hand on the side of his head, her thumb stroking his cheek affectionately as she added. "You've been unconscious for a while. We were getting worried about you."

"Where… I don't understand. How did we crash the car?" he asked, appearing confused as he continued. "I don't remember anything."

"That's to be expected. Right now, you're gonna rest. I'll be back soon with some water and food." She instructed, standing up once more. Dylan nodded slowly, and closed his eyes again, eager to sleep some more to escape the pain in his head. Watching him quietly, she sighed softly, turning around to see Mason standing in the doorway, a bottle of water and a tub of something.

"Whoever left, they forgot to pack up all their meds. I guess crashing the car gave us something at least." He muttered, entering the room and making his way over to Dylan. Gently, he prodded his brother's arm, opening the medicine packet as Dylan opened his eyes again, watching as Mason explained. "I found some painkillers. They'll help with your headaches, here."

Sitting up slightly, Dylan took a swig of the bottle handed to him, before taking the pills from Mason and swallowing them, coughing slightly as his hand covered his mouth. Sitting on his bed, Mason just watched with an upset expression, unable to do anything to help his brother, and Charlotte couldn't stand there and watch it anymore, needing to leave the room before it got too much. Standing outside the bedroom, she listened as Dylan muttered something to his brother, who replied with something just as quiet. Slowly, she heard footsteps coming to the bedroom door, not sparing Mason a glance as he exited the room, closing the door behind him.

"I'm scared, Charlie." He confessed, looking up at her whilst adding. "Now that he's awake, that makes me feel better, but what are we gonna do if he gets worse?"

"I don't know. We just keep an eye on him for now, make sure he has everything he needs. What I do know is that we're gonna need to stay here until he's fit enough to travel." She pointed out, finally meeting Mason's gaze, both of them sharing a concerned expression before she turned around, opening a door that led into the living room. Walking inside, she frowned at how dark it was, the light from the day blocked by the boarded windows, though the light from the kitchen helped somewhat in highlighting the room.

Nervously, she walked in, feeling something crunch under her boot. Pausing, she looked down, picking up what turned out to be a picture frame, a photo of a family sitting behind the shattered glass. They looked like they were happy once, the father and daughter standing beside each other, the daughter looking just as old as Charlotte was, with blonde hair and striking greens eyes that matched the older man's. An older woman stood on the opposite side of the daughter, her ginger hair cut short into a bob, her own blue eyes squinted as she smiled brightly. Staring down at them, she wondered where they were, if they were even still alive, and just placed the photo on the mantelpiece over the fire.

Turning to the couch, she walked over and sat down, resting her head on her hand whilst Mason placed the bags on the floor, propped up against an old recliner. Opening it, he took out another bottle of water, taking a gulp of it before handing it over to Charlotte, the older woman drinking from it as he sat down in the recliner, leaning back as he finally asked her. "You think we're ever gonna make it to North Carolina?"

"I don't know, buddy. We can't stay here, though. You were right, back in the car, we gotta find more people to group up with. We can't stay on our own forever." She explained, placing the bottle on the floor by her feet before sighing. "If anything, I say we relax for now. I'll check on Dylan in a while."

Not replying, Mason just glanced into his bag, taking out his walkman and starting to place music quietly, eager to get rid of the uncomfortable silence between him and Charlotte. She didn't object, rather it was a welcomed distraction for her, and she just sat there, silently, listening to the music play softly in the background. She was tired, despite the sleep she had gotten. Rather, it was more of an emotional tiredness, her thoughts running quickly in her mind, and she prayed for some relief if only for a while. Out there, she wondered if there was people she could trust, understanding where Dylan was coming from, but she knew that eventually, she would run out of steam, and someone had to be there for her brothers.

There were good people, hopefully.

After a few days, Dylan had recovered enough that they could resume travelling, leaving the bungalow and the small town behind them, not before they scavenged all they could get from the place. Staring at the long road ahead, she wondered where it would take them next, knowing it would be a good two weeks before they reach North Carolina. She thought about the type of people they would run into, whether they could be trusted or not, but until she actually met them, she didn't know. Hopefully, Logan died on the road with the rest of her former group, but she had a suspicion in the back of her mind, she couldn't escape from her past, not that easily.

Either way, she would know what would happen when she reached her destination.


	5. Cabin In The Woods

Weeks had passed. The cold winter winds grew heavier as time passed on, and snow had started to fall the further north Charlotte and her brothers had traveled. Her jacket did some good keeping the cold out, but she was unused to that kind of weather, her teeth chattering as the three of them walked down the highway leading to the city of Charlotte, the place where she last heard her uncle and aunt were staying. The snow crunched under her thick boots, leaving footprints behind her for miles in the other direction, Dylan and Mason standing on both of her sides with their hands stuffed in their pockets, Mason finding an old jacket during their travel up to North Carolina. It wasn't much, but every little helped with their situation.

Peering up, she could see the outline of the city in the distance, eager to get there and start searching for the remainder of her family, or at least people that they could run with. The weeks they had been walking were one of the worst, the things that she seen, the things that her brothers had seen. Dylan wasn't getting any better either, the effects of the car crash still weighing heavily on him, and the cold was not helping anyone. Slowly, he moved over to the barricade, some of it smashed with the car still left behind, the front completely totaled. His movement didn't go unnoticed, and Charlotte paused as she stared at her younger brother sitting down.

"You alright there, buddy?" she asked, making her way over to him whilst Dylan kept quiet. He just stared ahead, trapped in his own thoughts as his twin and older sister glanced nervously at each other, Charlotte turning her head back to stare at him. "You need a break? We can stop for a few minutes…"

He glanced up at her, the doubt and fear clear in his eyes that made her chest tighten, Charlotte standing there as his gaze fell down to the floor, voice quiet as he just muttered. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" she replied, sitting down next to him, worried when he couldn't bring himself to look at her. With Dylan just sitting there with a saddened expression on his face, she turned to look over at Mason, the latter standing there with concern clear on his youthful features, hands fiddling with his jacket anxiously. After sitting there for around a minute, Dylan finally sighed under his breath.

"I don't know. It hurts, but it's not like  _physical_ pain. I mean, it is, but…" He paused, starting to get annoyed with how difficult it was to explain what was wrong. Charlotte somewhat understood what he was trying to get across to her, waiting patiently as the younger teen collected his thoughts and tried again. "I just want these thoughts to go away. I don't want to be this angry all the time, but I can't stop thinking that maybe… it's my fault we're in this mess."

"Why would you think that?" Charlotte gasped in shock, placing a hand on Dylan's shoulder, frowning when he tensed up, before she ignored the reaction and comforted him, her voice soft and gentle with her little brother. "Hey… It's not your fault, okay? We're here, we're alive, that's all that matters."

"I was the one who crashed the car! I coulda killed all of us!" He snapped, shaking Charlotte's hand off his shoulder as he stood up, moving past Mason before pausing in his tracks, staring off at the city in the distance. Charlotte sat there, allowing her to fall onto her lap whilst she stared at Dylan's back, standing up when Mason turned to her and silently urged her to try and talk to him. Both of them could see that their brother was losing it. After everything, it was starting to get to the older woman as well.

Feet crunched in the freshly fallen snow, her breath misting in front of her face as she breathed out, walking over to Dylan as he refused to look back at her, shoulders sagged and head just staring ahead. Her hand lifted to hover over his shoulder, almost hesitant after his reaction last time, before she slowly placed it on his shoulder. Dylan stood there, not making any move to shrug it off. Rather, he glanced up at Charlotte with reddened eyes, moving closer to his sister as he wrapped his arms around her, desperate for some form of contact to soothe his troubled thoughts. She allowed him to hold her tightly, placing a hand on top of his head as they stood there.

Everything was silent. The cold winter wind blew down the highway, chilling all the survivors there to their bones. Mason shivered violently, hugging his jacket closer to his body in an attempt to fight off the cold, and even Charlotte herself was feeling the frost on her back. After a few moments, she listened as he whispered, the broken sound in his words gripping at her heart. "This is all my fault…"

"It's more my fault than yours, buddy." She joked, trying to bring his mood up as she pointed out. "I was the one who grabbed the wheel. It was pretty much me who crashed the car."

"I know you're only saying that to make me feel better but… thanks." He mumbled, smiling softly when he separated himself from Charlotte, the taller survivor staring down at her brother with a tender look on her face. Affectionately, she ruffled his hair before starting to walk again, her brothers glancing at each other with warm smiles before following after her. Mason appeared by her side, the other twin hanging back behind them whilst they walked, all enjoying the silence after comforting the injured teenager.

Some of the cars left abandoned on the highway were covered in snow, a thick sheet of white on the roof of the vehicles, anyone unfortunate enough to be left in the cars long frozen to death, returning as walkers that growled weakly as the living passed by. Mason kept his gaze straight ahead, unwilling to look at the blank eyes staring back at them, hands shoved into his pockets in a vain attempt to get warm. Charlotte glanced over at some of the cars, the light weight in her bag reminding her of how little supplies they had left. If they didn't find something soon, they would go hungry that night.

So, she decided to inspect the cars left behind in some hope that there was leftover supplies. In fact, she would take anything at that point, but knowing that the city isn't far, likely with some supplies left for them to scavenge, she held onto that hope too. Walking over to a dark blue four seater, she peered inside to see if anything, or anyone, was left behind. When she saw nothing, she turned to go to the back, trying to open the boot with a deep grunt, the frozen metal creaking as she managed to push it open. However, when looking inside, she couldn't stop the disappointment from becoming clear on her tired features, finding nothing of use in the car boot.

"Fuckin' figures." She groaned under her breath, leaving it open as she walked away from it. Mason and Dylan stood there in the snow, staring as their guardian continued to look through any vehicle to find something they could use, and when she backed away again with a worried look in her eyes, they glanced nervously at each other, concerned for not only their future, but their sister's mental wellbeing as well. If there was any time that Charlotte wished there were other people helping her, it was then.

She paused, hands on hips as she thought carefully about what they were going to do, lips pursed before she just growled in annoyance, hoping deeply that the car she was walking towards were different from all the others. However, when she reached the front passenger seat, a loud growl and hands smacking on the glass caused her to jump back in fright, her heart hammering before she forced herself to calm down. It was trapped in the car. Breathing deeply, she neared the window again, cautious in case somehow the walker got free, or there were more hidden away.

"It looks like they crashed." Dylan pointed out, appearing by Charlotte's side as he stared at the walker inside, sympathy washed over his face as he added in a low voice. "The driver just left them behind…"

"It might have been too late to save them." She sighed, noticing that the driver's door was in fact open, the seat empty, and couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor person that was left behind. Slowly, she walked over to the other side, looking through the open door to see what was inside. Quickly, she heard the door opposite her open, eyes glancing up to see that Dylan had opened the passenger door and, with a knife in hand, pierced the blade deep into the walker's eye socket, killing it instantly.

Grunting, he pulled it out roughly, the head lurching forward with the force before lying back against the seat, falling to the side so that she could clearly see the deep wound in its eye. With the danger taken cared of, she searched through the car, opening the glove compartment to find only a driver's license, some papers, and a small bag of something. Raising an eyebrow, she grabbed the bag and stood up, looking at it before she realised what it was. Softly, she heard Mason walk towards her, asking her about what was in her hand. "What's that?"

"It's, erm… It's weed." She chuckled, pocketing the find as she coughed, looking away when her brothers shot her a judging look. Instead, she decided to change the subject, walking down along the highway. "We ain't gonna find much here, so let's keep going. We're almost there."

"Do you know where in Charlotte our family is?" Mason asked, jogging up to her side before looking up at her, quickly glancing at the incoming city with a worried frown. "Did Dad ever, I don't know, tell you before all this?"

"I wasn't really around much, buddy, and I'm not on the best terms with Aunt Abigail. I'm gonna be honest, if there was anyone who knew where they lived, it was Liz." She confessed, face falling when her deceased sibling was mentioned. When she noticed Mason becoming fearful of their future, she flashed him a comforting smile, ruffling his hair affectionately as she chuckled. "Don't worry about it. We'll find them."

"I hope so…" He muttered, before falling silent when they reached the outskirts of the city. It was eerie how silent their surroundings were, but Charlotte knew that all could change quickly, and so she turned to face Mason and Dylan, kneeling down so that she was eye-level with the twins.

"Listen," she started, her voice adopting a serious tone that made the young teenagers frown deeply, glancing up at the city behind her before listening. "We don't know how bad things are here, but it's likely to be pretty bad. We try and find our family, but if things get too hot, or there's a risk that you guys get injured or worse, we will leave this city and try to find somewhere else, alright?"

The boys nodded in response, earning a genuine smile from their sister as she stood up again. "Good. Stay close, don't make too much noise, and we should be alright. I'll keep you guys safe."

After instructing them on what to do, she turned back around and started making their way into the city, eager to reunite with the last of their family. The streets were empty. Snow that had fallen covered in dirt and footprints, long before the small group had arrived. The highway they followed led them deeper and deeper into the city, the forests that surrounded the roads slowly disappearing as homes replaced them, long left abandoned by the people that lived in them at one time. Likely picked clean, searching them bore nothing of use to Charlotte, and so she just kept walking. The bits that were left behind were taken by the small group, yet they were only scraps. It worried her. However, she kept a brave face on, even if it were to help her brothers rather than her.

The intrusive thoughts returned once more. She couldn't help but feel like she was failing her family, that if she remained in the group maybe they wouldn't be in this mess. They would have food, protection, and it hurt knowing just how truly alone she was. Staring down at Mason's exhausted face, his once pudgy cheeks flattening with the lack of food and stress getting to him, she hid her fear well, but if there was anyone who could see through the facade she put up, it would be him. Dylan however, just remained oblivious to it all, rather staring at the houses that passed them by.

"I never thought I'd see a city this quiet…" he mumbled to her. She just nodded in response, keeping a wary eye on their surroundings. When she looked behind them, she could see their footprints clear in the snow, wondering how long it would before the winter winds blew them away, wiping away any sign that they were once there. Before she could look back to where she was walking, something caught her foot and sent the survivor flying, the air in her lungs being knocked out when she collapsed in the snow with a heavy  _thud._

Her brothers were by her side quickly. Dylan's hand gripped her upper arms, helping her up as exhaustion and hunger forced her to remain, being pushed away enough that she could get back to her shaking feet. From the other side of her, she heard Mason panicking over her. "Charlie, are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." She sighed, brushing the snow off her jacket before giving the younger survivors a comforting smile. "I'm fine. I just tripped over… something."

She looked down at the snow, confused on what it was that caught her foot, and when she realised what it was her hand moved to in front of the approaching Dylan, keeping him firmly where he stood. It was no log or stone or even a broken part of the many crashed and destroyed vehicles. Rather, it was a frozen hand, the owner of the limb shifted from the thick blanket of snow when Charlotte tripped over it. The fingers curled inwards, the rotting flesh and stiff bones caught by rigor mortis and set like it was in stone. The face was half chewed, the remaining flesh left to be frozen in the frosty conditions, and all anyone in the trio could say was Charlotte's quiet. "Jesus…"

"I guess others weren't so lucky as us." Dylan pointed out grimly, crossing his arms while staring down at the body. Charlotte couldn't handle looking at it anymore, feeling vomit building up in her stomach as she looked away.

"Come on." She started, guiding her siblings away from the scene and back down the road, her voice a quiet whisper as she continued. "I'm starting to think it was a mistake coming here."

"We're still alive. That's gotta count for something." Mason replied, a weak smile on his face that fell when he saw his sister not improving. It was all tiring. Snow being shoved out of the way with their shoes, the biting wind and the stinging hunger in their bellies, the backpack feeling uncomfortably light on her shoulder, she thought she could just take it and move on like all those other times. She was wrong.

With her brothers behind her, she paused when Mason suggested. "It's starting to get colder. Maybe we can hole up in one of these houses?"

Glancing to where he was pointing, she saw nothing but boarded up and abandoned houses, the vehicles in the driveways either gone or scrapped for parts. Nothing about them looked promising, and before she could give her answer, she heard Mason quickly turn his tone to a frightened mutter. "Oh shit…"

Turning away from the houses, Charlotte immediately spotted what her brother did and stopped in her tracks, staring straight ahead with widened eyes and her brothers moving closer to her, scared kids looking for their guardian to protect them. In the distance, groups of walkers larger than she ever seen patrolled the streets in the inner city, no way through being clear from where they stood. The harsh truth hit her like a tonne of bricks, the feeling in her twisted stomach worsening when she heard Dylan sadly ask her. "We aren't gonna find them, are we?"

"No, buddy." She confessed, lowering her head in grief while the other two just stared at the horde from the safe distance, glancing at each other while Charlotte just inhaled deeply, lifting her head as she adopted a more serious look on her face. "We can't stay here. This city's lost, the best thing for us now is going back to the countryside."

"Where are we gonna go? There's not much in the countryside, and we're running low on food." Mason sighed worryingly, rubbing the upper part of his arm through his thick jacket while he looked away from the horde. Charlotte said nothing to that, causing the younger boy to frown deeply and added. "We'll be fine. I'm sure… we'll find something, yeah? We always had."

"We aren't gonna find anything just standing here. Let's go." Dylan pointed out, walking down one of the streets that lead back out of the city. Charlotte followed after him, letting the teenager to lead the group for a while while she and Mason just walked side by side, neither of them saying anything as the winds picked up. Lifting up the hood of Samantha's jacket, she could still feel the frost penetrate through the fabric, all the clothes that she was wearing just feeling  _cold._ Hands shoved in pockets, trying to keep warm, she watched as Mason moved closer to her, the both of them braving the winter winds while Dylan kept to the front.

The cold not only affected them. Out of the winds, she could see a walker standing there, its movements sluggish and awkward while Dylan moved closer to it. With his knife pulled out of his jeans pocket, he glanced down at the walker's bent legs and paused, before glaring at the reanimated corpse and delivered a swift kick to its knee, backing up when the walker fell to the ground with a dull thud. Before it could try to grab him, the twin shoved the blade in the back of its head, wincing when the blood splattered onto the snow as he pulled it free. Staring down at it, he took in a deep breath as Charlotte and Mason walked to his side, before glancing up at his older sister with a mumble. "Hit the knees. I remember… just like Liz showed me."

"That's good, buddy." She praised, earning a smile from Dylan before she looked down the never ending road. "Come on. We gotta find shelter before nightfall. It's gonna be cold tonight."

The trio continued their journey. Through the winds and the snow, she glanced as the city behind them grew smaller and smaller, anyone who was even alive in there being left behind as they continued to look for somewhere to settle down. Her stomach growled while she walked, her hands pressing against it in an attempt to control the twisting pain. Her feet started to drag, pulling the snow with each step until her footsteps turned into shallow trenches following after them. A single car caught her attention, and so she moved over in one last attempt to find something that would help them. Peering through, she couldn't stop the pity from coming across her face when she noticed a body leaning against the dashboard, the head turned so that glassy eyes stared at her.

"Holy shit…" She mumbled under her breath, trying the car door to see that it was unlocked. A sigh of relief passed her lips, Charlotted pulled the car door open slowly, listening at the frozen mental creaking with the movement. Inside, she could feel the interior of the car being just as cold as outside, the heater in the car shot and the engine having frozen over, the front of the car totaled into the barrier as well. Glancing back up at the body, she noticed that the body wasn't at all decayed, rather the skin a dull grey and the blood having dried around the head wound.

"He still looks… like he could be alive." Mason pointed out, appearing behind Charlotte as she shuffled into the car. Opening up the glove compartment, she rummaged through the papers and rubbish, before her fingers brushed against something metal. Gripping it, she pulled out what was revealed to be a pistol, looking down at her find with a slight frown. It wasn't food, but it did help having something to defend herself with.

Looking over her shoulder, she passed the pistol to Mason, watching as he took it with a grim look on his face. Quietly, she explained to him. "You need it to protect yourself. Remember what I taught you."

"Aim for the head. I know…" He responded, keeping hold of the gun while his sister went back to checking the car. The back of the seats and footwells had nothing of use that she could find, and slowly she pulled back into the passenger seat, staring at the corpse as a thought ran through her head. With her hands gripping the body's clothes, she pulled it across the seats until it was lying across both of them. Any pocket that he had, she searched thoroughly, and soon she found loose ammo and a knife that the deceased survivor had kept in his thick winter coat, Charlotte taking the coat as well.

With the knife shoved in the back of her jeans, she turned to the others with the winter coat in hand, smiling at them as she offered. "It's only gonna get colder. Dylan, you look like you need it the most outta all of us."

It was true. Looking down at his tattered and worn jacket, he conceded to what she was saying and moved towards her, taking the coat that she offered and slipped it on, zipping it up to better protect himself from the biting frost. The coat was two sizes too big for him, but the boy still had some growing to do. Hopefully, he could find use for it in the future as well as the present. With him taken cared of, Charlotte turned back to the corpse, pausing when Mason softly grumbled. "We're not taking his clothes, are we?"

"I get that it's weird and pretty disrespectful to the dead, but we need something to stop us from freezing to death. We're alive, we need this more than he does." Charlotte pointed out, taking the thick bandana that was wrapped around the body's neck and wrapping it around her own. She understood where Mason was coming from, taking all the poor guy's things felt like a dickish move to her, but she pushed that away by excusing that she needed it. They needed it.

While she was pulling the bandana over her face, she heard Dylan calling to them from behind the car. "Charlie, come see this!"

She raised an eyebrow at that, leaving Mason to slip on some gloves that he took onto his freezing hands. At the back, she noticed the boot having been lifted, and Dylan standing there, a faint smile on his face as he backed away, letting her look in as he continued. "There's stuff here that'll help us."

He was right. In the boot, Charlotte stared at a couple of boxes that was packed with supplies. Bottles of water, canned goods, she even spotted a lonely CD case on the bottom of the boot and scooped it up, noticing that it was full of spanish music. Her lips pulled upwards in a smile, recalling the beautiful music that her mother played while cleaning up their home, the songs what Charlotte napped to when she was just a baby, and Mason and Dylan were raised on after her. Shrugging her backpack off, she plopped it on the boot and started to shove the supplies they found into it, spotting Dylan doing the same thing with his backpack beside her. Keeping the CD safe for later, she grabbed all that she could carry. Rummaging through the boxes, she came across some batteries in it, glancing down at them in her hand before turning to Mason, the teen making his way over to them while rubbing his gloved hands.

"Hey, bud?" She started, moving away from the boot with the batteries. Mason paused, looking at her hand as she grabbed hold of his, dropping the batteries in his with a warm smile. "For your walkman, yeah? We found some more CDs that mama loved."

"Awesome. Thanks, Charlie." He grinned, pulling the older survivor into a tight hug that she returned, allowing her hand to rest on the top of his head as she felt his soft locks of hair under her fingertips. Moving away, she turned back to her backpack while he shoved the batteries in his pocket, and looked into the box to see what else they could take. Slowly, she pulled out a woolie hat, the fabric worn but otherwise wearable, and so she slipped it over her head. Covering her freezing ears, she was thankful for that small protection they had, bundling up her hair to shove into the hat.

"There's not loads here." She heard Dylan point out, before he quickly added with a happier tone. "But it'll last until we find somewhere we can stay, right?"

"Right. We'll find a house, with a nice fireplace." Charlotte started, finishing up packing the food into her bag before zipping it back up, throwing it over her shoulder and walking away from the car. Having found every that would help them, the two brothers followed after her, listening with a wistful look as she continued. "We can have the fire going during the night. Have nice beds to sleep on… we just gotta get through this and then we'll be set."

"We'll be safe there, won't we?" Mason asked, staring down the long road with his smile fading slightly. Charlotte glanced down at him, recalling driving past her own friends, their frozen faces flashing at the back of her mind before she pushed them away, trying to forget the sight of teeth gnawing away at their flesh. She would try to forget about them. They weren't her friends. Looking back, she felt her heart constrict when she realised that she thought they were. Those months surviving, walking along those deserted roads with Samantha and Joshua and Nathan, enjoying those laughs at the camp fire, those nights huddling with Sam in their sleeping bag.

She wanted them to stop being her friends. She wanted that pain, that loss, to just disappear, but it wouldn't. They were her friends. That just made the reality of what she did worse to stomach.

"Yeah. No one will bother us anymore. We got each other, that's all that matters now." She replied softly, wrapping one of her hands around Mason's shoulders and bringing him closer. There, they walked through the cold, howling winds with their hands together, making sure none of them were lost to the blistering blizzard.

Hours passed, and the group turned off the road into the nearby forest. Pine trees, branches burdened with blankets of heavy snow creaking under the weight, the towering plantlife looming over the survivors as they made their way across the worn path, their footprints the only indent in the smooth snow. Untouched. With the trees protecting them from the bulk of the blizzard, the winds started to slowly die down once more, allowing Charlotte to see more of her surroundings. Her legs cramped terribly, and she could feel the exhaustion hit her as the weather constantly wore her down. Walking along, she was slowing down, she could feel it, and soon enough, she took one wrong step and slipped on some of the snow, tumbling down to the ground with a loud thud.

Mason and Dylan stopped in their tracks, turning back to help Charlotte while she struggled to even push herself off the ground. The snow bit into her exposed fingers, her breath misting in front of her face as she breathed heavily, and with her brothers' help, she was able to get back to her feet, legs shaking with tiredness settling into her muscles. From her left, she could hear Mason frantically ask her. "Charlie, are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah… I'm just tired. That's all." She brushed off, looking down at his worried face with a weak smile. "Don't worry."

"I think I see something over there." Dylan suddenly revealed, walking away from the others with his hand over his squinted eyes. Charlotte followed his gaze, an eyebrow raised quizzically before she realised that it was a cabin. The lone building stood in the middle of an opening, a shed not far from the front porch. Dylan, curious to what could be there, walked further away from the others to get a better view. Unnerved with how quiet it was, Charlotte jogged over to his side and held down on the teenager's shoulder gently.

Glancing up at her, he frowned while she muttered. "Stick close. We don't know if this place is as deserted as it looks."

"How'd you know when somewhere safe to check out?" He asked, watching as she took the pistol from Mason and took lead of the group. With the trio creeping out of the bushes like a couple of nervous deer, Charlotte kept her eyes forward, staring up at the front door with a lump building up in the back of her throat.

Swallowing it down, she kept her stare while answering Dylan's answer with a serious tone. "You don't."

"Well, that's reassuring." He shot back sarcastically, following her lead as the eldest of the group moved quickly towards the stairs leading up to the porch and front door. Pausing, she glanced up and spotted a window, trying to see if anyone was in there, although the curtains blocked much of the view. Kneeling back down, she tightened her grip on the pistol and took the first step, wincing at how loud the wood creaked under her weight. Still, she kept creeping up the stairs until she reached the top, looking over at the front door with her lips pulled into a thin line.

Mason and Dylan kept back, leaving Charlotte to stand up and walk over to the door slowly, her hand stretched out towards the door knob. When she grabbed it, she jiggled it a few times, smiling slightly when she found that the door was actually unlocked, pushing the door open with a chuckle. "That was easier than I expected."

"Woah, this place is pretty cosy." Dylan whistled, walking in before Charlotte with Mason keeping his distance, showing more caution than his twin with the new environment. Charlotte looked down at him, keeping quiet when she noticed him finally braving it and following after the other teen slowly, before she too entered the cabin. Down the hall, she could hear Dylan call to her. "The bedrooms down here are clear!"

"This place looks empty." She muttered to herself, kicking the door shut behind her to stop the cold from getting in. Out of the snow and the frost, she rubbed her hands together in a desperate attempt to warm the frozen digits back up, having shoved her weapon in her pocket to keep a hold of. Shuffling further down the hall, she paused at the beginning of the staircase and glanced upstairs, knowing that it was important for them to check up there in case anyone was hiding away up there. With her brothers checking around in the rooms downstairs, she decided to look upstairs and quickly jogged up the stairs, taking two steps at a time.

At the top, she paused when she noticed a sign in the shape of a fish on the wall, just beside a closed door. With her hand pulling the pistol out again, she reached out with her other hand, fingers brushing against the door knob before she wrenched the door open. Gun pointed at any danger that would lurk behind the door, she released the breath she didn't even know she was holding, seeing nothing out of the ordinary in the bedroom. Lowering the weapon, she sighed in relief and closed the bedroom door again. Turning her attention to the hallway pass the stairs, she walked down and paused in front of another door, taking in a deep breath as she moved to open that door as well.

Pulling it open more slowly, she aimed the gun inside, glancing around what appeared to be the bathroom. This time, she moved into the room, leaving the door open as she looked around. The cabinet over the sink grabbed her attention, Charlotte moving over to the sink and opening the cabinet to see what was inside. Although she knew better than to hope, it was still hard to stop that feeling of disappointment when she found hardly anything left in there. A small pin cushion rested on the bottom shelf, a single needle in it that the survivor left well alone, and without anything else that was much interest, she closed the cabinet again and decided to leave the bathroom alone.

Exiting it, she left the door open and turned her attention to the last room of the cabin. When she opened the door, all that Charlotte was greeted with was an empty room. No signs of anyone living here in months could be seen. The covers on the bed were pulled back, left unmade by whoever was last there, and were freezing to the touch when Charlotte pulled the covers back over, making the bed again before turning her attention to the bed stand beside it. A small book was left there, the thick hardback catching her eye as she picked it up. It reminded her of those fantasy books that Dylan enjoyed reading, and so she placed it back down on the side table for him to find later on. Outside the window, she could see the light fading, the grey clouds blocking out the sun but the dying sunrays clear to see.

"Best get a fire going." She hummed, shoving the gun back in her pocket and exiting the bedroom, closing the door behind her. From where she was standing, she heard quiet laughter and paused, recognising her brothers' voices immediately, and the sound of them relaxing brought a smile to her face. Quickly, she reached the staircase and walked down it, peering over the banister to see Dylan and Mason sitting on the floor with a chess board between them, the two teens taking turns to move their pieces.

At the bottom of the stairs, she heard Dylan call out to her. "Look what we found, Charlie!"

"I saw. It's pretty cool that you guys found something to entertain yourselves." She replied fondly, making her way over to the fireplace while the younger survivors carried on with their game. Kneeling in front of it, she grunted softly as she pulled the doors open, letting the soot out and causing her to cough roughly when she accidentally inhaled some of it. Waving a hand in front of her face, she grumbled harshly. "Woah, smokey."

"I found a bag of chopped logs in the closet." Mason revealed, pointing at a bag that he left on the couch before returning to his game. Following where he was pointing, she spotted the bag and reached over for it, dragging it off the couch and back over to where the fireplace was. Patting down her pockets, she grumbled curses under her breath when she couldn't find the lighter that she kept, wondering where it could have gone to.

Standing up, she shoved her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, a groan of annoyance coming from her as she snapped quietly. "Fuckin' figures."

"What's up?" Dylan asked, pausing in his game while glancing up at his sister.

Removing her hands, she instead placed them on her hips as she shook her head. "I think I dropped my lighter or something. I dunno…"

"Wait." He replied, standing up quickly while his hand dove into his coat pocket. Charlotte stood there, an eyebrow raised until she realised he pulled out a lighter, her lighter. Taking it off him, she listened as he added. "I picked it up from that guy's car. Thought it's be useful."

"Thanks, buddy." She chuckled, rubbing the top of his affectionately before turning her attention back to the fireplace. Kneeling down in front of it, she looked to her side as Dylan kneeled beside her, clearly eager to learn how to start the fire while she just let him be. Lighter in hand, she grabbed a log from the bag and tossed it in, the heavy object forcing a cloud of ash to float up after it landed on the bottom of the fireplace. Anything she could find was sued as kindling, some papers that were left scattered on the coffee table in her hand as she flicked the lighter open.

The flame burst to life as she rolled the stone under her thumb, Charlotte bringing the paper to the lighter and watched as it all went up in flames, quickly shoving it in with the logs in hope that it would catch fire. Luck was on her side, the flames consuming the logs and growing quickly in size, the heat coming from it welcome on her frozen skin. Lowering the bandana, she left the neckwear around her neck and shoved another log in with the other, before backing away and allowing the heat to flood into that part of the room. Dylan remained by it, warming up his hands while his brother joined him, abandoning the game of chess for warmth instead. Charlotte, meanwhile, retired to the couch and sat down with a relieved sigh, removing her bag and letting it fall to the ground with a dull thud.

"Alright, guys." She started, grabbing the attention of the teenage boys when they turned to face her, backs to the fire as she continued to explain, her face more serious. "It's starting to get into the depths of winter now. This cabin is pretty secluded, but we gotta be careful in case the owners decide to come back any time."

"Can we stay here, then?" Mason asked, glancing at his brother as the other urged him on, obviously wanting to stay at the cabin just as much as the other did. "This place is pretty abandoned. The kitchen's been picked clean, and it doesn't look like anyone's been here for months."

"We'll have proper beds for once, and the fire will make the place less cold in the winter." Dylan joined in, adding with a more serious tone in his voice when he saw Charlotte unnerved by something. "We're armed. We can defend ourselves if we need to! We found this, why can't we enjoy this, Charlie?"

With her hand in front of her mouth, Charlotte leaned into it while thinking deeply. Her brothers were right. The cabin was warm, they would have bed rather than the uncomfortable sleeping bags, and it's been so long since they had a proper roof over their heads. But there was no food, no water and she always had that niggling thought in the back of her mind that someone's gonna stumble across this and try to take it from them. Eventually, she decided on what they were gonna do, removing her hand from the front of her mouth and sighed. "Y'all are right. It'll be safer here than on the road, and we don't have to worry about waking up with snow on our heads."

"So, we can stay?" Mason asked, hope clear in his voice as his smile widened at Charlotte's nod of approval, the two teenage boys glancing at each other as he laughed. "Awesome! I get the bedroom down here!"

"Hey, I wanted that one!" Dylan shot back, the two bickering over the room when Charlotte just cleared her throat.

"I get the downstairs bedroom." She started, quickly cutting off any shouts of protest with an amused tone. "I'm the oldest, I'm the one who said we could stay, and if anyone tries to get into the cabin at night, when we're all sleeping, my room's the closest one to stop them. Trust me, y'all are safer upstairs."

"I guess that's true." Dylan conceded, glancing up at the uncovered window as he spotted the darkening sky, turning back to Charlotte as he softly asked her. "What're we gonna do for food?"

"There's gotta be some useful stuff in the shed. I'll head out and check it, you two will stay here and keep an eye out." She ordered, standing up slowly from the couch as she groaned in pain, feeling her worn and tired limbs protesting at being forced to move from the comfortable furniture. Regardless, she got to her feet, and grabbing a flashlight that one of the boys likely left on the coffee table, she walked over to the front door. Mason and Dylan kept put at the fire, the teenagers too cold and too tired to move from the warmth to follow after their sibling, and she left them be.

Opening the door, she braced herself as a wall of frost hit her full force, her chest constricting as she took in a shivering breath of air that burned her throat, and quickly she left the cabin and shut the door behind her, trapping any of the heat within. From her spot on the porch, she couldn't make out any walkers that had stumbled away from the roads into the forests, and slowly made her way down the stairs onto the snow covered path. Crunching noises under her boots, she paused to glance around, using the light of the torch in her hand to see if anything was sneaking up on them, and when she spotted nothing was when she continued on towards the lone shed slightly down to the left of the cabin. The winds had died down, thankfully, and yet the temperature was still low, Charlotte's breath misting in front of her face and her teeth chattering while her whole body shook, trying to keep what little body heat it had left.

Hopefully, she could grab whatever was in the shed and return to the warm cabin, ready to settle down for the night.

The shed was old,  _really_ old. The wood had started to rot, the smell causing Charlotte to wrinkle up her nose, but she just pulled up her bandana to try to ignore it before opening the doors. The snow bundled up as she tried to open the doors however, causing her to grunt while she used her whole weight to open it up, and soon enough there was enough space for her to slip through. The inside of the shed wasn't any less decrepit than the outside, with few tools being left behind on the tool rack and an abandoned tool box left in the back of shed. The first thing she spotted, Charlotte moved past barrels that were empty to reach the tool box, kneeling down in front of it while placing the torch on the ground.

Lifting the lid up, she sighed in disappointment at he lack of supplies inside, picking up a roll of fishing wire and giving it the once over before she shoved it in her pocket, muttering to herself as she closed the tool box again. "I guess we could find some use for that."

She could feel the cold seeping into her knees, the grown woman quickly standing up as she grabbed hold of the flashlight once more, using the light to see what else was of importance. Only a hammer and a saw was left on the tool rack, the dust having gathered on them with the other tools nowhere to be seen, only leaving behind the slots where they once fitted in. There was nothing much in there. At least they had the cabin, and Charlotte took solace in that as she made her way back to the doors, pausing when her foot connected with something solid on the floor, causing her to lean forward slightly and curse loudly. "Fuck it! What the shit was that?!"

Shining the flashlight on it, she sucked in a harsh breath through her teeth while her foot throbbed in pain, but what she found caused her to stare with a smirk across her face. They were fish traps, contraptions of wood and wire that she remembered her uncle having, using those things when he went on his annual fishing trips with her father. Only once did she go, and it wasn't the best trip she had, but seeing those traps again gave her relief over the problem with food. Quickly, she shoved the flashlight underneath her armpit, holding it awkwardly while she grabbed hold of the two traps. They were pretty heavy, and large as well, so she shuffled out of the shed in a slow and awkward gait, kicking the shed door closed with her foot before making her way back to the cabin.

In the distance, she could hear faint growling and felt her pace quicken before the walkers noticed she was there. She didn't want to deal with them that night. Taking two steps at a time on the stairs, she paused at the front door and dropped the traps, taking the flashlight from her armpit and turned it off, shoving it in her pocket before opening the door, calling into the cabin while picking up the traps once more. "It's just me, guys!"

"Did you find anything in the shed?" Dylan asked, appearing around the corner down the hall and stayed there, watching as Charlotte stumbled into the cabin and kicked the door shut, dropping the fish traps before nudging them to the side of the door. The cabin hallway was dimly lit with candles, the small flames flickering and giving off faint light in the midst of darkness.

Staring at some of the candles near the door, she listened while her brother continued in wonder. "Aren't they those things that Dad used on our fishing trips?"

"Yep. We passed a river coming into the forest, so first light, I'm taking these down there and see if we can catch some food." She explained, feeling the wire in her pocket as she added. "Found some wire too. Hope your dislike of fish stopped since the start of all this."

"The way I've been these past few weeks, I'll eat anything." He shot back, a smirk on his lips that she returned, before he slowly asked her while staring down at the fish traps. "When you go to the river tomorrow, can I come too?"

His request caused Charlotte to pause, an unsure look on her face while she thought it over. Meanwhile, Dylan waited for her answer patiently, staring up at her once more with pleading eyes, and when she sighed quietly, his face fell as he assumed the worst. However, she surprised her brother with a nod of her head. "Y'all need to learn how to catch your own food if anything happens to me, but don't expect this all the time. I don't like leaving Mason here on his own."

"We can't exactly leave the cabin unguarded. Someone might come and start going through all our shit, Mason can take care of himself… I guess." He pointed out, shrugging his shoulders while Charlotte just shook her head slowly, crossing her arms over her chest before watching him turn on his foot and walk back into the living room. "Come on, we opened some of the canned food for dinner."

She followed after him, removing the bandana from in front of her face and lowered her hood, shrugging the jacket off of her body and tossing it so that the clothing laid across the back of the couch, the woman no longer needing it with the fire having warmed up the room. Mason continued to sit near it, having shedded his coat, thin jacket and his gloves with all of them bundled in a pile nearby, rather the teenage boy eating beans out of a can slowly. He noticed Charlotte approaching them, the older survivor sitting down on the end of the couch and accepting the can when he offered it to her, starting to eat out of it while he glanced down at her bag.

"We're lucky to have found that car, but the food isn't gonna last forever. We have enough canned stuff to last for a week at most, and that's with rationing it all." He pointed out, looking over at Dylan while he enjoyed a bag of jerky that he took from the bag. "Did you find anything in the shed, Charlie?"

"I found some fish traps," She replied, her mouth full of beans that she attempted to swallow quickly, nearly choking on them as she coughed loudly before forcing them down. Gathering herself, she paused in her eating and looked over at the still eating Dylan, continuing with a quietened voice. "Dylan and I are gonna go to the river that we passed tomorrow with them. I need you to stay here."

"By myself?" Mason mumbled in a scared tone, staring at his sibling with a worried expression that she couldn't help but returned. She knew that he was scared. She was just as scared for him, but she had to make sure that the younger boy knew why it was like this.

"We won't be long. I just can't leave this place empty for some other guy to come and rob us blind. I'll give you the gun, and the place will be locked." She comforted, unable to stop the worry from building up in her stomach when Mason just looked down at his lap, unwilling to say anything as she added softly. "When we set up the trap, we'll head straight back. I'll be an hour at most."

"We can't keep relying on Charlie to protect us, Mason." Dylan added, glaring in the distance when he continued in a bitter tone. "We gotta grow up. Liz showed us how to defend ourselves, and we need the food."

"Yeah… Yeah, you're right." Mason conceded, nodding briefly before looking at his sister with a smile. "Don't worry. You can count on me."

She smiled back, and when she saw how quickly it had gotten out of the window, she finished what little food was left in the can and plopped it down on the table. Her back and legs ached when she stood up again, popping the joints in her shoulders and her spine with a satisfied hum, her arms falling to her sides while she moved closer to the window. Peering outside, she couldn't see anything in the dense blanket of darkness, and she felt some uneasiness with the knowledge that the undead were shuffling around out there, as well as more unsavoury dangers. At least, she could relax knowing that her group were no longer coming after him. It was just her and her brothers.

Backing away, she started blowing out the candles and whispering to the boys. "Finish up your dinner and head to bed. We're leaving at first light."

"Okay. Goodnight, Charlie." Dylan replied quietly, the rustling of his jerky bag being hear briefly before he threw the garbage on the table to be cleaned up tomorrow. Mason said nothing, but when he stood up with his brother, he shuffled over to where Charlotte was extinguishing the rest of the candles in the living room and wrapped his arms around her, embracing her for a little while as she in turn wrapped her own arms around him. The two stayed like that for a few seconds, before she moved away.

"Get some sleep, buddy. I'll be just down here." She muttered, ruffling his hair affectionately as he nodded in response, walking away from her with his footsteps creaking in the dark. She continued to listen to the sounds until they were upstairs, Charlotte going on to lock the front door with the flashlight out of her pocket and in her hand, the grown woman pausing when the sound of footsteps above ceased.

She waited for a moment, listening in case the sounds returned, and when they did not she decided to retire for the night. The last thing that she did was extinguish the fireplace, smothering the flames until all that remained were hot ash and embers, and the doors were shut tight. The absence of the fire could immediately be felt, Charlotte shivering quietly as she shuffled over to the door leading into the downstairs bedroom. The metal doorknob was freezing to the touch, her hand retracting for a moment like it was burnt, before she opened the door slowly, the sound of the creaking object echoing in the empty space. The inside of the bedroom was somewhat small, the double bed pressed up against the wall with some space on either side to climb into it.

Moving past the wardrobe and the desk, she paused when she noticed a photo of a duck on the wall opposite the bed, staring up at it while she mumbled. "Reminds me of hunting season. I wonder if the walkers got the ducks. Maybe not, they're not very good swimmers… or flyers."

Leaving the picture alone, she placed the torch on the bedside table and moved to close the curtains, stopping the light from attracting the walkers from the depths of the forests surrounding them. The mattress felt old, and yet it was much better than the sleeping bags she was in for months since the start of the plague. So, with her boots slipping off her blistered feet, Charlotte lifted the bed covers up and slid underneath them, wrapping her thin body up so that only her head was visible, not even bothering to remove her hat as she stretched over to turn the flashlight off. The whole room plunged into darkness. With the door ajar so that she could hear outside the room, she settled down for the night and found that sleep was quick to come to her.

However, her dreams were not so kind. Isolation. Alone. All she could see was forests stretching for miles, the path worn under her feet as she quickened her pace, practically running from a danger that she couldn't see but she could feel. It was no walker, nothing physical that she could defend herself against, and with no one to watch her back, she was at their mercy. She was all alone. Her words, her begs and pleads and screams for her brother, her family, even the people she called friends, to come and save her never left her throat. It felt like it had just closed up, her tongue dry and useless in her mouth as all she could do was run away. All she ever did was run away from the problem. Eventually, her legs gave up and she collapsed to the ground.

She couldn't run anymore. Instead, she was forced to pull herself along the ground while the darkness caught up to her. Swallowed whole, she tried to reach out and cry for help, but all that she could see and hear and feel was nothing.

As quickly as she fell asleep, she bolted upright awake, a cold sweat rolling down the side of her face while she practically gasped for breath. Her heart hammered in her chest, a hand slowly moving to above it as she pushed her fingers into the flesh, trying her best to slow the beating down so that the blood wasn't thumping so loudly in her ears, and after a few minutes of just sitting there, she felt her heart start to slow down to a soft hum under her fingertips. The dream felt so real. She glanced around, reaching for the flashlight and switching it on for a moment, feeling herself calm down more when she could see that she was still in her bed, she was still in the cabin and nothing had really happened.

Exhaling loudly, she turned the flashlight off and laid back down, staring up at the ceiling while willing herself to go back to sleep. She didn't know how long had passed, but it was still pitch black outside, and so she would need to get as much sleep as she could for the trip out tomorrow. Her eyes closed slowly, and she just listened to the winds blowing outside, having picked up again and whistled throughout the room. That was when she heard a creaking noise from outside her door, sounding like it was coming from the kitchen. Quietly, she sat up again and listened, hearing the sound of footsteps along the floor definitely in the kitchen.

Exhaustion muddled with her brain, and she found herself wishing that it was just one of her brothers messing around when she told them to go to bed, until she heard a hushed voice. "Stay close, honey."

That wasn't her brother's voice.


	6. Along The Stream

Cold metal in her hands was not the only thing that Charlotte was focusing on as she kneeled by the doorframe, her head pressed against the solid wood while she stared into the inky darkness, keeping her body out of the view of the people that she could hear shuffling around. The creaky floorboards in the living room helped her locate where the intruders were, their footsteps echoing in the darkness while she held her breath, worried that even breathing would give away her location. A pair of footsteps neared her door. Heart banging in her chest, Charlotte stayed deathly still as the footsteps paused, her hand moving over her mouth and her other hand gripping her only defense harder, knuckles turning white from the force and the cold.

"There's still embers in the fireplace." She heard a feminine voice point out, feeling her heart drop when she recalled the fire she put out a while ago. The footsteps in front of her door walked away, and the same voice quietly whispered to the other person. "This place wasn't abandoned for long."

"Do you think they're gonna come back?" A new voice piped up, youthful and high pitched which made Charlotte raise an eyebrow in confusion. They had a kid with them. Cursing in her mind, she readjusted herself quietly while a pair of footsteps, lighter than the ones she heard before, grew quieter as they moved away from the door and sounded like they were heading back into the kitchen. With the person the sounds belonging to disappearing, the feminine voice spoke up again while footsteps neared the couch.

"There's a bag here." She whispered. Charlotte inhaled sharply, remembering the bag of supplies that she left by the couch. All their food, their supplies, she wasn't willing to let that be taken by intruders, hearing the woman carry on. "There's not much in here, but we're running low as it is."

"I'll check upstairs. The room over there looks pretty empty." Another voice, more masculine in tone, explained before the light footsteps returned. There was a short pause, only Charlotte's breathing being audible to her ears, before the same voice called out to another person. "You find anything in the kitchen, kid?"

"No. I can't reach the top cupboards." The child replied, her voice quiet to avoid rousing any suspicion in the cabin.

"That's alright. Come on, you can help me check upstairs." The male voice suggested, warmth in his tone before his and the child's footsteps walked near to where the bottom of the staircase was. Charlotte couldn't wait anymore. With the flashlight next to her, she picked it up in one hand and stood up, turning around the corner of the doorframe and stood tall, turning the flashlight on to get a good look at the intruders in her home.

"Don't move!" She ordered harshly, shining the light on the woman that was still by the couch, having been rooting through the bag before she was interrupted by Charlotte's sudden appearance. Dropping the bag on the floor, the canned food, the bottles of water, all rolling out and rattling across the wooden ground, echoing in the empty darkness. By her side, Charlotte could see a rifle propped up against the couch, narrowing her eyes as she snapped. "Don't even think about it."

The woman moved her hand away, instead raising them while glaring at Charlotte heavily. From her side, she could see the other survivors moving back into her vision, and when she looked over at them, she froze when she saw that the child, a young girl looking no more than nine, aimed a pistol at her. Quietly, Charlotte muttered to herself. "Shit."

"Just lower the gun." She asked, her voice wavering slightly yet she pushed through, trying to be brave even when face with someone bigger, stronger and more willing to pull the trigger. "Please."

"We ain't here to hurt you." The man beside her mumbled, his hands raised as he moved closer to the other woman, appearing more in the light of Charlotte's flashlight. He was short, shorter than his companion and Charlotte, with pale skin and thick stubble running along his jawline, and looked the complete opposite to his dark skinned companion. The tone in his voice, that calm and friendliness, it made Charlotte almost believe him, but she refused to lower the gun. She couldn't bring herself to trust someone again.

"I ain't gonna shoot." She pointed out, trying to keep the situation from escalating any further. "But y'all are trespassing here, and I ain't in the mood for meet and greets."

"We just needed somewhere to wait out the storm. We'd have froze to death if we stayed out there." The woman explained, her tight face frowning as she glanced behind her shoulder. Charlotte followed her gaze and immediately knew what they were talking about. The window near the fireplace was caked in frost, the wind howling outside loud even inside the safety of the cabin.

She could subconsciously feel the cold on her skin, the feeling of the wind biting at her face and her whole body shaking in a desperate attempt to keep warm. Rather than anger or distrust, she slowly found herself feeling empathy for the frozen survivors, especially when she glanced over at the young girl and saw her still pointing the gun, yet still looking scared and tired. She couldn't send them back out there, not with a good conscious. So, Charlotte lowered the gun, watching as the young girl visibly exhaled and lowered her pistol, staring up at the grown woman with amber eyes shining off the light of the flashlight. Throwing the gun on the tableside near the door, Charlotte stood there while the other adults looked at her with surprise, the man smiling thankfully with the weapon no longer being pointed at him.

Taking in a deep breath, she rubbed one of her eyes with her free hand while yawning. "If y'all are really stuck, then stay here. It'll be safer tonight than walking around in those forests."

"Thank you. We appreciate it." The man replied gratefully, walking up to Charlotte and offering his hand, clearly wanting to shake hers. Slowly, she returned the gesture and shook her hand, smiling faintly while he introduced himself. "I'm Omid. Woulda been nicer to meet you in less… drastic conditions."

Nodding, Charlotte looked over at the woman sitting down on the couch, clearly eager to get off her feet before she introduced herself as well, tilting her head to look at the other woman. "I'm Christa."

"Well, name's Charlotte." Charlotte responded, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly before looking down at the child, noticing her walking past and making her way over to Christa, jumping up on the couch while a hand slipped into her shoe, rubbing her obviously sore foot. The whole scene felt awkward after the whole stand off, and Charlotte couldn't help her voice dropping a bit as she mumbled. "What's your name, darlin'?"

The young girl paused in rubbing her foot, glancing from underneath her blue baseball cap as she replied quietly. "Clementine."

"Clementine?" She repeated, raising an eyebrow while her hand fell to its side. "That's a pretty cool name."

"...Thanks." Clementine smiled, falling silent while she glanced at the fireplace. Charlotte followed her stares, and decided that, with the winds threatening to rip her windows off, she'd might as well turn the fireplace back on. Walking over to it, she winced as her socks touched the freezing floor, feeling the cold even through the thick wool covering her feet. None of the newcomers said anything about it, rather Omid moved over to the lone chair near the couch and sat down, an audible sigh of relief reaching Charlotte's ears while she got to work relighting the fire.

The papers that she left on the coffee table were as good as any, and with her lighter pulled out of the back pocket of her jeans, she set a piece of the papers on fire. The light from the fire illuminated her face, bathing it in a warm glow while she placed it inside the old fireplace. Quickly, she started to add more logs, and soon enough the logs caught fire. The flames grew in size immensely, the heat being thrown in Charlotte's face as she smiled, pleased that she could at least keep the cold at bay for a while. Leaving the doors open to let the heat flood the room, she shuffled over to the side of it and sat down on the floor, crossing her legs while her hands rested on her knees. Looking up, she could see the others pleased with the welcome fire warming their frozen bodies, Clementine sliding off the couch to sit nearer to it, plonking herself opposite to Charlotte while warming her hands against the flames.

Enjoying the fire, Charlotte kept quiet for a few minutes, rather allowing the newcomers to warm themselves up before she tried to strike a conversation with them. With a neutral expression, she looked over at Christa, she softly spoke up, not very eager to disturb her brothers who were sleeping just upstairs. "So… where y'all from?"

Christa didn't speak for a moment, rather exhausted from her travels before sighing and leaning back on the couch, enjoying the sit down while explaining. "Me and Omid were from San Francisco, originally, though we haven't seen our home in a long time."

"I wanted to take Christa on a road trip. It was pretty awesome." Omid piped up, a wide grin on his face that Charlotte couldn't help but replicate, finding it easy to settle down around the man.

Christa, however, wasn't in much of a smiling mood as she continued. "We were down in Georgia not too long ago. Savannah."

"Woah," Charlotte whistled, leaning more forward while her arms propped her up on her thighs. "That's a pretty long way to walk."

"It was, but we're pretty tough." Omid butted in, though his smile slowly faded as he added. "There were more of us, but… it didn't really work out."

Immediately, Charlotte recalled her own group. Her eyes moved off to the side, staring at the fire roaring in the old fireplace and frowned deeply, pushing the faces of her deceased friends away as she just muttered to the group. "Yeah. I get what that's like."

When she moved her gaze further away from burning fire, she noticed Clementine staring at it as well, her face fallen in grief while her eyes glistened, unshed tears threatening to fall before she just wiped them away with the sleeve of her brooklyn sweater. Blue eyes softened with the sight of such a young face torn with grief and sadness, and while Charlotte wouldn't lie about being curious about their past. However, she kept quiet about it. If she didn't want to talk much about her own past, she wouldn't push Christa and the others into revealing their own. Without her prodding, Christa decided to change the subject about their missing group and instead turned her interest to Charlotte herself.

"You here by yourself?" She asked, looking down at the bag that was left sprawled at her foot, the food and water still out on the floor.

Charlotte looked up at the ceiling, wondering if her brothers were still sleeping or if the commotion from before had woken them up, the teenagers creeping by the top of the stairs and eavesdropping on their conversation. She wouldn't put it past Mason, the boy was one of the lightest sleepers she ever knew, but Dylan slept like a log. After a few moments of silence, she decided to be straight with the others. "No. My brothers are asleep upstairs."

"Now I get why you appeared when you did." Omid pointed out, leaning forward on the chair with his arms resting on his thighs, similar to Charlotte's position. She stared at him with a serious expression, before nodding slowly in response.

"They turned fourteen just before all this." She revealed, her voice soft and somewhat proud of her siblings, though her genuine smile turned into a depressed frown when she continued in a saddened tone. "They're all I have left. We've been through a lot in the past few months."

"Yeah, I guess everyone has." Christa replied, her face softening and her eyes no longer cold and narrowed in distrust. Rather, she looked tired, and from under her jacket, Charlotte could see a small bump forming in her stomach. Her breath stilled in her lungs when she realised that Christa was expecting, and her brain started running quickly. She didn't know if the group planned to stay, or if they would head out in the morning when the storm passed, but from what she heard beforehand, they were pretty low on supplies, the same as her and her brothers.

However, it was pretty late into the night, and with the newcomers cold, hungry and tired, she decided to leave out the questions on what they would do in the morning. Part of her was hoping that they would move on, knowing that supplies were stretched thin as it is, but another part was happy that she found people. Maybe, these were the people that she could trust. Either way, turning her head over to the door leading into her bedroom, she slowly offered to the group as a peace offering. "Y'all can stay in my room. It's not much, but it's better than what you're probably used to."

"Thank you." Christa replied gratefully, smiling faintly before standing up from the couch, her hand rubbing the lower part of her back while she looked down at Clementine. Charlotte glanced at the little girl, realising that she was nearly falling asleep where she sat, her head falling downwards so that her baseball cap covered her eyes. She lifted her head when she heard Christa call out to her. "Come on, honey, let's get some sleep."

"Okay…" She mumbled, rubbing her eye while getting up to her feet. Before she followed Christa into the other bedroom, she turned to Charlotte, who was still sitting on the floor. "Goodnight, Charlotte."

"Night, darlin'." She replied, offering Clementine a gentle smile before she followed after Christa, the two disappearing into the other bedroom to settle down for the night. Left alone with Omid, Charlotte didn't know what to say to him, or if he would be retiring to bed with the other survivors in his group. When he made no motion to move from his chair, Charlotte decided to add another log to the fire, before standing up and shuffling over to the couch, settling down on the worn fabric cushions before deciding to strike a conversation with the grown man. "So, is Christa your missus' or…?"

"Yep, known her for a good couple of years. Lived in a nice apartment back in San Francisco, owned a cat, but I'm pretty sure he's pissed that we've been gone for so long." Omid joked, trying to raise the spirits when he noticed Charlotte's depressed face. With his smile fading slightly, he tried to be respectful when he asked her. "You said that you had a group before. What, erm, happened to them?"

Charlotte said nothing. Rather, she sat there with her arm leaning against the arm of the chair with all her weight on it, staring down at the floor while she thought about it. Slowly, she opened up with a deep sigh, recalling the incidents with clarity that sometimes scared her. "Most of them were good folk. I knew them ever since all this started. They were scared, they did stupid things, and in the end… they died."

"Oh." Omid began, clearly sympathising with Charlotte as he continued. "I'm sorry to hear that. We've been through some bad shit like that too."

"I didn't wanna ask because of Clementine but… what happened? If you don't mind me asking." She whispered, feeling that curiosity appear once more and yet wanting to keep her voice low enough that she didn't disturb Christa and Clementine next door. While watching as Omid thought deeply, she quickly added. "I guess what happened to them is the same that happened to everyone else. You don't have to tell me, I get it."

"I think you know what happened to them, to be honest." Omid pointed out, leaning back into his chair. "They were decent folk too. We met up with them while their train was going along the railway to Savannah, it was a pretty cool train."

"Wish I coulda seen it. That thing musta bulldozed any walker in their way." Charlotte laughed, smiling when Omid laughed in turn.

Quieting his laugh down to a chuckle, he nodded in response to her joke and carried on with his story. "Yeah, nothing could stop it except a huge truck hanging off the bridge over the track. This guy, Lee, he got this blowtorch, said he was gonna cut the thing down but he couldn't reach. Guess the lucky guy who got dangled off the bridge to cut the damn thing."

"Wow, pretty daredevil if you ask me." Charlotte chuckled, earning another quiet laugh from Omid before she asked. "So, this Lee guy. What was he like?"

"He was an awesome dude. He was the guy looking after Clementine before we met her. You could tell… she really cared about him." Omid's face fell again, and Charlotte couldn't stop that nagging feeling in the back of her mind, telling her that there was only one way that the story would end. She didn't interrupt, rather giving Omid the time he needed to continue his story. "After Clementine was kidnapped by this guy, Lee got bit. We thought we could save him by cutting the arm off but he wouldn't have any of it. Wanted both of them for when he "caught the guy who took Clem", as he phrased it."

"Sounds like he loved Clementine a great deal." She sighed, her face fallen in sympathy at the thought of the young girl next door dealing with all this.

Nodding, Omid let his gaze move over to the fireplace, watching the flames burn through the logs fed to it while he remained silent. Letting him this moment to think, Charlotte remembered the hole Elizabeth's death left in her, as well as her parents. Slowly, she looked over at the door, noticing it closed behind when Christa and Clementine retired to bed, and listened as Omid finished the story. "We got separated from Lee when this sign between two buildings collapsed. He told us to meet at the train outside of town, and then he climbed down to push through the herd down in the streets. That was the last time we saw him."

"Seeing Clementine is with you guys, I'd say he saved her." Charlotte questioned, staring at the door with a deep frown pulling at her thin lips.

"Yeah, he did. We found Clementine out in the countryside, outside Savannah. Alone." Omid paused, meeting Charlotte's gaze when the woman looked back at him, and she could see that while he was trying to keep things from getting too depressing, the fact that all his friends were dead could be seen deep in his eyes. "She told us what happened to Lee, and her parents. They were dead, and shortly after, she had to make sure Lee didn't turn."

"Jesus." She whispered, unable to think of any other way to react to what Omid told her. Glancing down at the canned food that was lying on the ground, she just kept quiet, unsure what to say with the information that Omid gave her. Instead, she just quietly asked him. "How's Clementine handling this? She's so young."

"She doesn't talk about Lee, or anyone she knew, really. I guess it's to be expected." Omid explained. With that, he just fell silent, rather focusing on warming his body up before going to bed. After that talk with him, Charlotte felt less awkward in the silence, rather allowing the other adult to enjoy the fire, instead moving to shove her supplies back into the backpack. With a can of beans in her hand, she stared at the worn label with a neutral expression, though she could feel her stomach twisting painfully at the thought of having to go back out to scavenge for more food. Unwilling to think about it until the morning, she shoved the can back in her bag, zipping it up and leaving it propped against the couch.

"Well, time to turn in." Omid piped up, standing up slowly from the chair and stretching out his arms, several popping sounds easy to hear from his back while Charlotte just sat there. Turning around to face her, he smiled down and added. "Thanks, again, for letting us to stay here."

"Sure thing. Goodnight, Omid." Charlotte replied softly, watching when he nodded and walked over to the door leading into the bedroom. Opening it slowly, he slipped through and closed it again after him, leaving her all alone in the living room. Sitting there, she shuffled further along the couch, moving closer to the fireplace and the warmth, before stretching out with her long arms. Plucking a log from the bag, she shoved it in the fire and stirred the fuel with a poker leaning next to it, watching the flames growing as big as before.

Leaving the poker on the floor, she laid down on the couch, wrinkling her nose at the smell of the old cushions her head rested on. Regardless, it was comfortable enough for her to have a doze off, the grown woman having had slept on the hard ground before. With the nightmares plaguing her mind from before, she found herself waking up not long after, and falling back asleep, repeating the senseless cycle until eventually her exhausted body fell into a deeper sleep. The heat from the fireplace wasn't as warm as the thick duvet on her bed, but it was enough to keep her from freezing to death, her body curled up in itself to preserve her body heat.

Her thoughts turned to the story that Omid told her, wondering what they had seen before meeting her, what Clementine had saw. Recalling Lee, she thought about the clear bond between him and the young girl, and she could see that same protectiveness in Omid and Christa to her. It was nice, seeing that kind of love for another human being. Quicker than she expected, she had awoken to light starting to peek from behind the thick forest surrounding the cabin, seeping through the frosted window and lighting up the room somewhat. Groggy from lack of sleep, she rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and peeked down the couch at the fireplace, noticing that the fire had long gone out.

Strangely, she wasn't as cold as she thought she would be, and when she moved to check the fire, she realised that a blanket was thrown over her body to stop her from freezing to death. Fingers brushed against the soft material, the blanket actually quite warm draped over her. So, with sunlight only starting to appear, and exhaustion wracking her terribly, she decided to just grab a few more hours of sleep and settled back down on the couch, pulling the blanket further up so that it tucked under her chin. Pulling her knees closer into her chest, she remained there, a small ball on the couch, and soon sleep caught her up again.

There was no dreams that time. Rather, she just rested in a dark bliss, remaining on the couch before a hand started shaking her shoulder. Groaning loudly, she brushed the hand off and rolled over, refusing to budge from her spot while the hand continued to try and rouse her from her slumber. Colourful curses were muttered, and she snapped quietly with her hand swatting the annoyance away. "Lemme have five more minutes, fuckin' Jesus."

"Charlie, there's people in the cabin." A voice whispered harshly, fear and worry clear in its tone that caused her eyes to snap open, her mind reeling in concern for her brothers as she shot upright, blinking through the sleep that had built up in her eyes. Rubbing them sluggishly, she turned her head and saw that it was Mason trying to wake her up, his face contorted in fright with his eyes darting over to Christa and Omid. Charlotte turned her head to look at the others, realising that Dylan was standing in front of her and Mason defensively, his gun in hand while he glared heavily at them.

"We came down and found them just sitting around." He explained, his voice a guttural growl as he demanded from the newcomers. "What'd y'all want? This place is ours!"

"Dylan, put the gun down. It's alright." Charlotte ordered, swinging her long legs over the couch and shivering when they touched the cold flooring. Dylan was shocked, eyebrows raised in surprise when he turned to face her, and when she just nodded with a comforting smile did he lower the gun, listening as she explained while gesturing to the group. "I met them last night. They needed a place to wait out the storm."

"Heya, I'm Omid." Omid introduced, moving forward to offer Dylan his hand while Charlotte noticed Clementine clutching her pistol, having lowered it when the teenager lowered his and yet she was still eyeing him warily, likely bracing herself to act if he threatened them again.

Dylan stared down at the hand, his face tight and serious before softening slightly, taking hold of the grown man's hand and shaking it firmly while replying quietly. "Dylan."

"Cool name." He complimented, offering him a smile that he just ignored, rather throwing the gun on the coffee table and moving to sit down in the chair, leaving Omid to look over at Mason. "What's your name, kid?"

Mason, more fearful of trusting people again, turned to Charlotte for a moment with a nervous glance, before looking back at Omid and smiling faintly. "Mason…"

"I take it these are your brothers?" Christa pointed out, walking from Omid's side to the couch with Clementine following after her. Charlotte watched as they sat down on the couch, shrugging the blanket off her and folding it up, throwing the fabric on top of the other junk that was sprawled across the coffee table.

"Yep." She started, stretching her arms upwards until she heard the joints in her shoulders pop, exhaling in ecstasy when her sore back cracked with the movement. That was the last time she would sleep on that couch. Letting her limbs fall to her side again, she started getting ready for the trip out with Dylan to the river, remembering the fish traps that she left by the front door. Before that, however, she decided to ask the pregnant survivor what had been nagging her. "Christa, what're y'all planning today? Like, where're y'all gonna go?"

"You mean whether we stay or not?" She rephrased, earning a short nod from the other woman while she just glanced over at Clementine, the young girl watching them converse with a contemplative look on her tanned face. A hand moved to the back of her head, messing around with the pigtails that she wore as Christa explained softly. "I don't know. We weren't planning exactly where we were gonna go, just somewhere out of the cities."

"That sounds reasonable." Dylan pointed out from his spot in his chair, looking up at Charlotte as he shrugged nonchalantly. "We were gonna try and survive in Charlotte, the city not too far from here, but it seems like every city in this country is packed full of those fucking walkers."

"Swear." Clementine piped up, her hand falling from her pigtail and rather resting on her lap with her knees pressed together.

Charlotte stared at her amusingly, a smirk on her face when she raised an eyebrow at Dylan. The teenage boy was surprised at the response from the child, his eyebrows raised up while he pulled his lips together into a thin line, and it was a few moments before he scratched the scar across his nose and chuckled nervously, appearing more sheepish than annoyed at the admonishment about his language. "Sorry. My bad."

"You'll get used to her telling you not to swear." Christa replied warmly, smiling down at Clementine before she mumbled in annoyance. "At least, unless you're Omid."

"I'm her favourite." He joked, crossing his arms over his chest while Charlotte laughed at that. Dylan, while he didn't laugh as loudly as his older sibling, did let go with a small chuckle and listened when Omid suggested to them. "I get that space is pretty restricted here, but you've found yourself a nice place to live. I wouldn't mind sticking around with you guys."

"But we're not looking for charity." Christa quickly interjected, adopting a more serious expression as the topic turned to more mature matters. Charlotte gave them a chance to explain, staring down at the other woman with a slow nod to push her to keep talking. Christa paused, sharing a look with Omid as his smile faded to a frown, before she sighed softly and continued. "It'll be safer here for us and Clementine. If you'll have us, we'd like to stay here."

Charlotte thought about it. Slowly, she backed up until she was near the staircase wall, leaning against it with her arms crossed and her gaze fallen to the coffee table. They were right. Space in the cabin were pretty restricted, and then there was the matter on food, supplies, and the truth about Christa's baby meant that in months time, they'd have to worry about another mouth to feed, another life to protect and keep healthy. However, even with their first introductions, Omid and Christa hadn't lied to her, nor had they tried anything funny. From her side, she heard Mason quietly suggest to her. "You did say we need a group to survive. Well, maybe this is the group you were talking about."

"Charlie, it's more mouths to feed. We barely have enough for us." Dylan pointed out, though he was saying this out of worry for their survival rather than malice or even distrust to the new survivors. She stared at him, taking his opinion into account, before noticing him look over at Clementine and see those ice blue eyes soften, seeing that scowl that he constantly wore melting away slowly. Shifting his gaze back to his older sister, his voice dropped to a mumble. "Maybe, we can figure out some way around that. It's pretty crap out there for anyone to try and survive."

"I know what it's like out there, and I don't really feel right sending you guys back out there, especially with a lil' girl." She decided, looking between Christa and Omid as she finished with a nod of her head. "Y'all can stay here."

The relief that Christa felt was visible on her face as her shoulders slumped, a genuine smile on her face as she nodded in response. Charlotte returned it, glancing down at Clementine as she offered the child. "How'd you like the bedroom over there?"

"So, we don't have to sleep on the ground anymore?" She asked, turning to Christa with large, curious eyes. When her guardian nodded in response, her face brightened up at the thought of having a bed, and Charlotte couldn't help but smile in response to seeing such joy over something that used to be the norm. However, that smile faded when her stomach growled loudly, her hands shooting up to press against it through her shirt.

She was starving, and quickly realised that so were her brothers when Dylan went rooting through the bag that she left by the couch. Pulling out the can of beans that she shoved in last night, he looked worried, eyebrows furrowing when he looked up at her with a deep frown. She knew what he was thinking, listening as he sighed in frustration. "There's not much in there. We got that, the food in my bag, and that's it."

"You were planning on going to the river, weren't you?" Mason piped up. The mention of the river peaked the interest of the others, Christa and Omid staring at the teenage boy as he shuffled on his feet, looking over at the front door where the fish traps were. "We found some fish traps in the shed outside. Could do some good if we catch a few fish."

"I know where the river is." Omid revealed, gesturing behind him with his thumb as he added. "We crossed it not too long ago yesterday. There's a town near that where we can scavenge for some supplies, if we're running low."

"Sounds like a plan then. You can come with me and Dylan, show us where this town is." She ordered, pushing herself off the wall and walking over to where Omid was standing. Passing him by, she pushed the door leading to the bedroom open and called back over her shoulder. "Y'all should get ready, we're leaving in ten."

Leaving them to get together whatever they needed, she noticed her bed duvet pushed halfway across the bed, none of the other survivors bothering to make the bed before they woke up that morning. Oddly, she remembered doing the exact same thing, and the scoldings she got echoed in the back of her mine while she smiled softly, making the bed up again. Her hands smoothed over the worn fabrics, before she backed off and grabbed the jacket that she left hanging on the curtain hook. Her arms slipped through the sleeves, her warm skin forming goosebumps when coming into contact with the cold clothing, and whilst glancing out of the window, she zipped her jacket up to better protect herself.

The snow had melted away somewhat, the blue skies clearer than the grey monotone colour she saw the other day and the sounds of birds chirping in the forests disant in her ears. The sunlight shone brightly through the window, lighting up the entire room in a warm glow while the survivor prepared herself for the day out to the river and nearby town. Her hand ghosted over the knife that she left in her jeans, pulling it out and staring down at the weapon in her hand with no clear emotion on her face, noticing flecks of dried bloods on the sharp blade. Her thumb ran across the chilled metal, and quickly she shoved it in her back pocket again, walking back out of the room with all that she needed.

Christa and Clementine were eating from a can that they took out of the latter's bag, sharing some with Omid while her brothers shared the can of beans that Dylan took out before. Her stomach growled again, this time louder, and so she plucked the gun she left on the tableside and made her way over to her siblings, silently accepting the can when Dylan offered it to her. She dug in, scooping the beans up and eating it greedily, not realising how hungry she was until the food entered her mouth. There wasn't much left. Disappointed, she stared down the can at the small juice at the bottom, thinking against drinking it and rather placing it down on the coffee table, leaving it for one of the others that were staying behind to clean it up. From the corner of her eye, she could see one of her brother's hands picking the other gun off the table, turning her head to see Dylan standing up from his spot on the chair.

"We should head out soon if we don't wanna waste more daylight." He suggested, turning to Omid as he asked the older man. "You have anything to defend yourself with?"

"Here, Omid. Take this." Christa instructed, grabbing the rifle propped up against the couch and holding it out for her boyfriend to take. When he looked like he was ready to reject it however, she quickly made her point heard as she pointed out sternly. "We have other weapons here to defend the place. I don't want you going out there without something to protect yourself with."

"We should be back before nightfall." Charlotte replied, standing there while Omid took the rifle and hold it in both hands, glancing over at her as she gestured for him and Dylan to follow her. Christa nodded, watching quietly as the trio left the room, while Clementine just stared up at Charlotte with a face that she couldn't quite make out. Whether she was scared, worried or even wanted to go with them, she didn't know, and instead she just turned her back on the other survivors and made her way over to the front door.

Off to the side, she picked up one of the fish traps in her free hand and turned to Dylan. "Grab the other man, will ya?"

"Sure." He shrugged, moving to grab the other one while his sister opened the door, letting Omid and Dylan out of the door first before walking out into the cold. Before she could close the door, she noticed Mason standing awkwardly by the staircase, watching them leave with a unsure look in those bright eyes. Slowly, she offered him a comforting smile and felt that nervousness fade slightly when he returned it. Neither of them exchanged any words, but then they didn't have too. All the time they survived together, that smile was all she needed to let her brother know that everything would be alright, even if she herself didn't know that for sure.

Unwilling to keep the others waiting, she closed the front door gently and released the door knob reluctantly. They would be alright. Christa was there, and from what she saw last night, even Clementine was willing to use that gun she had if push came to shove. They would be fine. She repeated those words mentally while following after Omid and Dylan down the stairs, their feet crunching against the exposed gravel path with the snow as they made started their trip into the trees of the neverending forest. She remained at the back, watching the others' backs while the two lads continued conversing with each other, breaking the ice and starting to get to know the other survivor.

"So, have you ever fired that there rifle?" The young teen asked, staring down at the weapon in the older man's hands with curiosity that was unlike him.

Glancing down at it himself, Omid gave him a wide smirk and replied to his questions. "All the time. I once shot a walker in the head from fifty feet, it was pretty impressive."

"Woah, really? That's awesome!" He gasped in awe, his eyes shooting up to stare at Omid with his eyebrows raised and a grin on his face. The reaction made the grown man's grin widen, and Charlotte couldn't help but smirk, having a feeling in her gut that maybe, he was exaggerating a bit on his marksmanship in order to impress the boy. She wouldn't say anything. It was nice to see him trying to develop a friendship with Dylan, the teenager really needed another man to look up to.

That being said, she couldn't help but have a sneaky little remark come from her lips as she feigned impress, that sly smirk deepening as she spoke up from behind the other survivors. "That so? Well, you can show us that again when we get near town."

Her suggestion caused his smirk to become more sheepish, yet that shift in expression wasn't noticed by Dylan as he glanced up ahead, staring down the road to watch out for anything while Omid shot his older sister a glance, shrugging his shoulders while continuing to lie about his accomplishments to the youngest group member. "I suppose I could teach you a few things. Be careful, this thing might knock you on your ass if you're not ready."

"I can handle it." Dylan shot back, confidence clear in his voice as well as excitement that he would handle something bigger than the pistols he was restricted to by his guardian. Charlotte, while apprehensive with the thought of him handling something as powerful as the rifle, decided to hold her tongue when she saw how genuinely excited he was to learn something new. It was always warming to her heart to see that glint in his eyes, whether he was learning the mechanisms of a car, how to fire a gun, or even when Elizabeth showed him that knee trick with the walkers.

"We'll practice one day, then. For now, just stick with holding the fish trap." Omid suggested, earning a disappointed frown from the teen as he huffed, glancing away and rather looking at the trees slowly passing by them. Charlotte kept quiet, listening to the wind softly blowing through the foliage, the bare branches swaying in the breeze with all the shed leaves soaken and mostly covered by the fallen snow, sticking to the muddy ground while they trodden over them.

With Omid leading them, it wasn't long before they come across a stream flowing through an open part of the forest, the trees running down all sides and hiding any danger that might have lurked within. Creeping out with Omid and Dylan, Charlotte kept a sharp eye out for anything suspicious, staying on watch while her brother and the other man went about setting the fish traps up. Taking the one that she was carrying, Omid placed the rifle of the ground near him, kneeling down by the bank and setting the trap up while Dylan set up his own, able to set the trap up properly while Omid complimented his skills. "You know what you're doing, huh?"

"My dad used to take me on fishing trips with him. Charlie went when I was younger, but she's pretty useless at this stuff." He explained, smirking over his shoulder at his sister while she glared heavily, before turning her head to continue her watch. With the two dealing with the traps, she decided to move further down to the stream to see what was out there, curious yet wary at the same time as she made sure she didn't drift too far from the others. The stream wasn't frozen over, which surprised her as she noticed all the snow that still hadn't melted away in the sunlight, though she would agree that it was warmer than it was the other day.

From where she stood, the distant sound of groaning caught her attention as her head snapped in the direction of the source, her body ready to move if she saw even an inkling of danger. However, when she approached the sound slowly, her nerves calmed down when she saw that it was a paralysed walker. Milky white eyes stared up at her, the undead trying to drag itself towards the survivor with withered arms, its legs broken and bent in unnatural positions that made her stomach churn in disgust. With only one around, Charlotte put her gun away in the pocket of her jacket and instead pulled out her knife, walking over to the walker while it tried to reach out to her, decayed fingers desperate to grab anything to pull her closer to its gnashing jaws.

Kneeling down, she wasted no time in putting it down and shoved the blade through the back of the walker's skull. Blood splattered out of the wound, running down the greyed skin and pooling underneath the stilled body as she pulled her weapon free. Standing back up, she wiped the blade clean on her already dirtied jacket before shoving it back in her back pocket. The smell was almost overwhelming, the stench of rotting flesh causing her to gag quietly and back away, eager to get away from the smell and see what else was around. The other people in her group weren't safe from the undead either, as she realised that when she turned around and saw more walkers stumbling out of the forests around them. Jogging back to her brother, she caught his attention with a loud order.

"Dylan!" She yelled, pausing when she noticed walkers starting to cut her off from the others. "Walkers, look sharp!"

Her yelling did the trick. Looking over his shoulder, the teenager noticed the walking corpses making their way over to where he and Omid was, the latter standing up with his rifle and aiming to shoot one of the incoming walkers. However, Dylan stopped him, muttering something that Charlotte couldn't catch before she was forced to deal with the small group of walkers that were approaching her. Her knife was pulled back out, the young woman holding it defensively while shifting her sights on each of the walkers. The closest one received a kick to the shin, throwing the limb from underneath the walker and causing it to tumble to the ground, unable to get off the ground by much before she shoved the knife in the back of its neck.

As she pulled her weapon free, she had to jump back to avoid another walker lunging for her, falling onto her back when she tripped over. Groaning, she lifted her upper body up, looking at the danger approaching as she pulled herself back, trying to get to her feet again before one of the walkers growled harshly, falling on top of her as her hands shot up instinctively. Gripping the torn shirt the walker was wearing, she grunted in exertion and pushed the walker further away from her, turning her head when nails came scratching at her face. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed another walker shambling towards her. With her heart hammering in her chest violently, she looked back at the walker on top of her and cursed loudly when she was unable to fully push it off in time.

Just when she thought she was a goner, a gunshot rang through the air and the walker advancing on her collapsed to the ground, a bullet wound gone straight through its forehead. Surprised, she used this chance to hook her foot under the walker's chest and push it upwards, giving her enough room for her hand holding the knife to move, and quickly she pierced the side of its head with the blade. The blood splattered down onto her face, eyes shutting tight to stop any of the rancid liquid from getting into them. The dead weight nearly knocked the wind out of her before she used her foot to push the walker off of her. Breathing heavily, she sat upright slowly, feeling her arms shaking from the exertion and her heart still beating ten to the dozen, unable to slow down even when she tried to force herself to calm down. There was no more danger. They were safe.

"Holy shit, Charlie!" Dylan swore, running up to her side and offering her his hand to get up. She accepted it, both of them grunting as he pulled her off the cold ground, before backing away with a worried look on his face. "I thought I didn't get to you in time, then! A-Are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah… Boy, that was close." She replied in a low voice, trying to get her breath back as she looked over to an approaching Omid, his rifle still smoking from the shot. An eyebrow raised, she glanced up from the weapon to his face while asking. "That shot back there was you?"

"Can't take all the credit. Dylan here can handle walkers better than a lot of other people I've seen." He shrugged, peeking over his shoulder at what appeared to be the walkers that were approaching them, lying down in the ground dead with discoloured blood staining the ground. Charlotte nodded to that, noticing Dylan smiling with pride at his work as he met her gaze, earning a thankful and proud smile from his older sibling that widened his own. Slowly, she straightened herself up and groaned, feeling a tiredness creeping up before she pushed it back down again.

"Well," she started, gesturing to the fish traps with a half-hearted wave of her hand before returning them to her hips. "We got the traps set up. Might be a good time for you to show us where that town that you were talking about is."

"Oh, yeah. It's not far from here, about an hour's walk tops." Omid explained, gesturing for the other two survivors to follow him as he started crossing the path leading alongside the streams. Dylan quickened his pace, returning to the older man's side while Charlotte once again remained at the back, following after them while leaving the two male survivors to talk to each other again. Softly, she heard Omid cheerfully pipe up to the teenage boy beside him, looking down at him with a grin. "You gotta teach me that trick you did with the walkers. That was awesome."

"My sister taught me it. You just gotta kick them in the knee, and stab them in the head when they're down. It's easy because they're so slow." Dylan explained, trying to appear cool and collected to the other survivor, and yet he was visibly failing when the giddiness over being complimented over his skills got the better of him. The sight of him happily conversing with Omid brought a smile to Charlotte's face, and she found herself grateful that the older man came with them on the trip. He saved her life, and he was bringing Dylan further out of his shell. The teenage boy needed that, especially after the car crash and all the shit beforehand.

Her smile fell when she remembered him being the exact same way with Samantha. Without concentrating, it was almost like the deceased woman was there, chatting and laughing away with Dylan while the three of them walked around looking for supplies, pushing away all the fear and the uncertainty for their future. Without grabbing their attention, her fingers ghosted over the gauze that was still taped to her face before she pulled them away, unwilling to let those repressed emotions surface up again. It was not the time for that. So, she just kept walking with them, enjoying the quiet while her brother and Omid joked around and, for once, enjoyed actually being alive.

"You taught them some pretty cool tricks, Charlotte." Omid responded, turning his head to look at the woman behind them. The misunderstanding caused Dylan and Charlotte to share a look, before the younger of the two just looked back ahead, unwilling to speak further on the subject.

"Yeah, erm…" She started, noticing Omid's confusion as she quickly explained his mistake. "It wasn't me who taught him. It was our older sister. Elizabeth."

"Oh, shit." He swore, already knowing how her explanation was going to end. There was only one way, Elizabeth wasn't with them, and the reactions to her name caused grieving reactions from the only living members of her family left. There, he decided to leave painful matters be, and instead kept walking in silence. Charlotte did so too, looking up at the trees when she noticed crows flocking around, the caws from the airborne birds echoing down to the ground below, and she wondered what happened to get the animals so worked up like that. Whatever happened, it couldn't have been good news for them.

Either way, they would keep walking in silence, and soon enough Omid went back to talking to Dylan in efforts to move on from his blunder before. The other responded well to that, and so they kept chatting about things that seemed so trivial to Charlotte; football, trucks, stereotypical things that she knew Dylan loved. It made him happy however, and that was good enough for her. Though, she preferred to just walk behind them and let them carry on with that, instead delving into her own thoughts to let the time pass by, waiting until they reached the town that Omid mentioned beforehand. Hopefully, they would find something that would make the trip worthwhile.


	7. Ghost Town

Omid may had been a bit generous on how quickly the group could walk to the town opposite the bridge. By the time they had reached the town, the sun had already reached the centre of the deep blue sky, the sunlight beaming down warming up Charlotte's shoulders and melting more of the fallen snow away. The tarmac path under the snow was exposed, the boots of the survivors walking along quieter than the crunching of feet in the snow was. The winter breeze was still frosty, causing goosebumps to form along Charlotte's exposed skin as she rubbed her hands together, trying to keep the digits warm while staring at Dylan's gloved hands with jealousy. The teen was none the wiser, instead glancing around the long road leading into town with his pistol clenched tightly, his finger kept away from the trigger until he saw something he didn't like.

Omid kept to his side, holding his rifle lazily while strolling down the road. Over his shoulder, Charlotte could see the town in the distance, and yet no sign of any undead wandering the streets. All the way there, save for the few they encountered by the river, the group hadn't been attacked by walkers or scavengers alike, but Charlotte knew better than to get complacent. She'd have to keep her wits about her until they returned to the cabin. From in front of her, she listened as Omid finally piped up in a joking tone. "Well, here we are. Albemarle. Took a bit longer than expected but at least we're here in one piece."

"It looks like a ghost town." Dylan pointed out, staring at the distant town with narrowed eyes before he turned his head back to Charlotte, sharing a nervous look with her as he confessed his uncertainty about the place. "We haven't seen many walkers so far. I don't like it. Shouldn't they have come out of the cities by now?"

"I have to agree with ya, there, buddy." Charlotte replied, sighing deeply as she moved to his side and placed a hand on her brother's shoulder. Staring up at her, his worry faded away slightly as she smiled down at him, returning that smile with his own as she quietly ordered him in a gentle tone. "Stay close to me. We don't know if the walkers are gone or just hiding somewhere."

"I'll take lead. You guys are capable of watching my back, yeah?" Omid chuckled, starting to walk down the road towards the town centre. Charlotte and Dylan shared a sly smirk between them, the younger of the two following after Omid while his sister continued walking at a leisurely pace. The winds made the trees lining the road sway, the bare branches that stretched out moving at the mercy of the breeze while all its leaves had fallen onto the soaking floor, crunching under the survivors' shoes as they continued down the road. Having pulled her knife out to defend herself in case walkers made a sudden appearance, she twirled it in her hand and stared down at the blade, flecks of blood that she hadn't gone to wiping off staining the steel.

Tired, blue eyes stared back at her, the woman surprised with just how tired she looked in her reflection. Bags under her eyes had darkened over the weeks that she had left her previous group, the lack of sleep not helping matters as her brain continued to work even under the strain, unable to stop to rest in fear that walkers, or worse other survivors, would come across her family and harm them. She could feel that exhaustion slowing her down. Legs ached from the journey over multiple states to reach North Carolina, Charlotte still not recovered fully from the strain that it took on her body, but she kept her ills to herself as she noticed Dylan chatting away happily with Omid. He looked happy. For now, she'd keep that happiness in her brother alive and make sure he didn't worry about her. She was meant to worry about him, that was her job, but she couldn't help but feel that she needed someone to tell her to slow down.

After everything that happened, she could barely recognise the Charlotte before all this happened. The Charlotte that left her family to go and follow her own path, who didn't want to remain on a farm or become just someone's wife left to stew in a house with kids running around everywhere. She loved her mother, she knew that she wouldn't be who she was that day without her mother raising her right, but that life wasn't for Charlotte. Looking back as she walked towards the dead town, she would do things differently. She wouldn't want to leave her family's side again. If only she had a chance to go back to when everything was normal.

In front of her, she heard as Dylan continued talking with Omid. "I went to San Francisco on a school trip once."

"Oh? That's awesome, what'd you think of it?" He questioned, pleased that the teenager had been to the city where he lived before the plague. Dylan shrugged at that, prompting the older man to continue with his questions. "Well, it's a pretty cool city, huh? It has some cool beaches and the Golden Gate Bridge, you gotta have crossed that to get into the city."

"It was pretty boring." Dylan revealed, staring up at Omid as the latter glanced back down at him, looking between the nonchalant twin and his giggling sister laughing away behind them. Charlotte felt bad for laughing at the sudden confession, stifling her chuckles with her rolled up fist while Omid continued to act flabbergasted with Dylan. The youngest of the group just shrugged again, continuing on with a small smirk on his face. "I liked the bridge, but one of the boys in my class got travel sick bad. The trip got a lot less cool real quick."

"Gross." Charlotte piped up from behind, earning a wider grin from Dylan as he glanced over his shoulder at her. Omid shared her sediment, grimacing at the thought of the scene that the teenager was describing to him while staring off ahead, leaving Dylan and Charlotte chuckling to each other quietly. She didn't even remember Dylan going on that trip, or anyone ever mentioning it to her before that moment, and she couldn't help that twinge of guilt in her stomach at the thought of how much time she missed with her siblings in the later years when she left to go and do what she wanted. There was likely more stories like that one where she was never told. At least she had them now, and she would make sure to be there for her brothers for as long as she could.

The town started coming closer and closer, yet there was still no sign of any life within, living or undead. Charlotte paused, staring at the long road ahead with a deep frown while the other two kept on walking. As they got closer, the winds had died down, the birds roosting up in the trees had all but abandoned the area around, and an eerie silence hung over the town like a thick blanket. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, her grip on the handle of her knife tightening as she carried on following after the others. There, she noticed Dylan glancing off to the right, raising an eyebrow in confusion until she followed his gaze and realised exactly what he saw, the sight causing her to sigh as he stopped in his tracks. Omid noticed his disappearance immediately and stopped too, looking over his shoulder while Charlotte reached her brother's side and placed a hand on his shoulder again. It was a graveyard to the side, the tombstones dirtied and grass overgrown from the months of abandonment and the world going to shit.

"You think the dead there have come back?" Dylan suddenly asked, glancing up at the older woman with a saddened frown before adding softly. "Do you think Grandpa is one of those things? Just… stuck in the coffin, left to rot?"

"I honestly don't know, but it won't be him. No matter what happened, he's at peace. He didn't have to see what the world has come to…" She comforted him, staring at the abandoned gravestones with her weak smile finally falling. Dylan couldn't even bring himself to return that smile, just staring ahead with a blank expression on his face, clearly pushing his true feelings below the surface once more. Slowly, he carried on walking in silence, brushing off Charlotte's hand as she just let it fall to her side once more. He passed Omid, who just watched him carry on while Charlotte followed after him, turning his attention back to the older sibling while offering her a saddened smile.

"Hey, is he doing alright?" He asked, showing concern for the poor teenager. She didn't answer, rather looking down the road as Dylan just kept walking, his back to them as the adults carried on walking side by side. Omid glanced at the graveyard one more time, while Charlotte just kept her eyes straight until she heard him carry on beside her. "He seems pretty alright, but I dunno. It's only gonna be a matter of time before he can't handle it anymore."

"He's trying to be tough… like his dad. But you're right, Dylan's a pretty emotional kid, sorta wears his heart on his sleeve type. I'm just keeping an eye on him and trying to help out when I can." She explained, turning her head at Omid while he nodded in agreement. Glancing away again, she kept the car crash that happened weeks ago to herself, unsure if Dylan would appreciate her telling Omid about how he lost control of the car. It wasn't his fault, but if Dylan was anything, he was a serious martyr type.

"Your other brother is a cute kid." Omid piped up again, staring at Charlotte as she allowed a small smile to appear on her face again at the mention of her brother. "I think he's warmed up to Clem. Those two could become good friends."

"It'll be nice for Mason to have friends besides me. Sometimes I feel like I don't really understand them, being teenage boys. Maybe it's the hormones? I dunno." She confessed, earning a chuckle from Omid as she asked amusingly. "What?"

"That's just it. They're teenage boys! Soon they see a pretty girl, their brain melts down. It's a scientific fact." He joked, adding in a more genuine tone as he comforted the grown woman. "You've kept them alive this far. I think you're doing what's best for them, that's all that matters."

"I don't even think Mason is interested in all that stuff. He mainly focused on school work, ready to get into medical school when he was older." She reminisced, staring at Dylan's back as he continued to walk in front of them. "Between you and me, Dylan once brought a girl he liked home to show Elizabeth's horse. Won three dressage competitions before he threw Elizabeth off and broke her collarbone and arm."

"Holy shit." Omid gasped, eager to learn what had happened as Charlotte recalled that hospital visit. "What happened?"

She crossed her arms with a wide grin on her face, her voice quietened with amusement clear in her words. "Well, Elizabeth retired him after that. Dylan brought his classmate to the stables where we kept him, Annabelle, I think her name was-"

"It was Abigail." Dylan interrupted, still looking at the approaching town without once turning around to face his sibling and Omid. Charlotte raised an eyebrow at that, sure it was Annabelle, but went with what her brother told her as she turned back to resume the story with Omid.

"Anyway, he wanted to impress her and jumped up onto Champion's back to show her how good he was at riding. Didn't even make it to the field before a snake slithered past and spooked the horse. He bolted, and Dylan ended in the pig's trough with a concussion." She finished, leaning closer to Omid so that her brother couldn't overhear. "Between you and me, you tap his head and you can hear the metal plate they put in at the hospital."

"Are you done with that story? Jesus, I could say millions of stories about the times you fucked up." Dylan shot back, his face flushed in embarrassment as he couldn't even bring himself to fully look the two smirking adults in the eyes. Charlotte couldn't even bring herself to feel guilty, thinking it was cute that her younger brother really wanted to impress his friend, though he could've picked a better horse to do so.

Chuckling deeply, she stared at Dylan's back as she defended herself. "I never nearly killed myself to impress someone."

Dylan started snickering at that, causing Charlotte's smirk to fall into a frown as she uncrossed her arms, glaring at him as he finally turned his head and revealed. "What about when we first met Samantha?"

"Now I had that situation under control." She shot back quickly, hoping that Dylan wouldn't elaborate with Omid there. However, he was ready for revenge over her little embarrassing tale regarding him and Abigail. Despite the funny side of the situation, it was still too soon for Charlotte to deal with the death, and she tried to stop him with a low warning. "Dylan, don't."

Instead, he looked over at Omid and explained the story with a grin on his face. "Before we met you guys, Charlotte knew this girl. Samantha. Well, when they first met, she tried to impress her by climbing up this huge tree to get the fresh apples that were growing there. Only thing is, she miscalculated a jump and ended up landing right on top of the guy in charge. It was pretty funny until we found out she fractured her leg."

"Ouch." Omid winced, turning to Charlotte while he asked. "You get the girl?"

Charlotte didn't answer that. Rather, she just shook her head and walked straight ahead, passing Dylan as the two glanced at each other, before Dylan cursed under his breath. She knew that it was just joking, but that didn't mean it still didn't hurt whenever someone mentioned her. Behind the survivor, she heard her brother call out to her in a guilty tone. "Charlie! Charlie, I'm sorry!"

His words caused her feet to stop moving. Standing there, she stood there with a tired expression on her face until Omid and Dylan reached her again. Reaching her side, she looked down at Dylan as he glanced away, clearly guilty about bringing up the deceased, and yet she didn't even blame him. Quietly, she placed a hand on his head and pulled him closer, bringing him into a hug as she muttered. "Don't apologise, buddy. I… I guess it's good that you remember her during the good times, rather than all the bad times."

He smiled sadly at that, before pulling himself away and watched as Charlotte looked over to Omid, finishing the story with a saddened smile. "Yeah. I got the girl."

"You know, this reminds me of when Christa and I first met. Vegas. Threw up on the roulette wheel and watched it go flying everywhere, but let's just say that wasn't the best introduction I coulda had with her." He reminisced, walking past Charlotte and Dylan as the trio carried down the road. They were close to the junction just in front of the town, the roads abandoned with few vehicles left, and Omid paused for a moment as he glanced around. Charlotte stopped by his side, the uneasiness in her stomach worsening when she saw nothing but streets and the aftermath of humanity abandoning the small town. A car was all that was left in the street, having skidded across the junction and crashed into the lampost, causing the thing to topple over and pin an unfortunate person underneath.

She approached the destroyed lampost, wincing when she saw the crushed head underneath, the body pinned underneath. She didn't know what happened to the person, what made them stop to look at the thing as it fell. Maybe they were just unlucky. At the very least, they didn't come back as one of the walkers, and it didn't seem like they suffered all that much before their death. Dylan appeared by her suddenly, staring down at the corpse before shaking his head softly and walking away. She did so too, rather following after the others as they moved further into town. By Omid's side, her hand gripped the knife tightly as her other hand ghosted over the gun in her pocket, wondering where all the undead where. It was unnatural.

Suddenly, Omid stopped and lifted his rifle, looking down the sights while Charlotte froze in place, her hand moving away from the gun in her pocket and instead held behind her to signal to Dylan, causing the teen to stop in his tracks as he narrowed his eyes, trying to see what Omid was seeing. Quietly, she whispered to him. "What'd you see?"

"Looks like… a pharmacy." He muttered, a hopeful tone in his voice as Charlotte smiled, before his voice dropped again. "Oh shit."

"What? What's wrong?" Dylan piped up from behind them, pushing past his sister as his hand pressed against his forehead, providing some protection from the sun as he stared up ahead. Slowly, Omid lowered his rifle again and glanced over at Charlotte, sharing a worried look with her.

"Well. We found our walkers." He revealed, passing the rifle to the grown woman so she could see for herself. Taking the weapon, she sighed and lifted it up, peering down the sights as she tried to see where the walkers Omid mentioned were. Eventually, her breath stilled in her chest as she spotted the walkers just outside the pharmacy, watching the corpses as some just stood there, nothing grabbing their attention, while others were lying on the ground, sitting or even devouring any food that was unfortunate to be in their grasp. From beside her, she heard Omid point out. "Too many for us to fight, but there might be something in that pharmacy that we need. Medicine, even things for the baby."

"Woah, woah." Dylan started, turning around to stare at Omid as he snapped. "You didn't say anything about a baby."

"Christa's not that far along by the looks of it, Dylan. It'll still be months before we have to worry about it coming." Charlotte sighed, lowering the rifle to look down at her annoyed brother. Dylan crossed his arms, glaring at them as Omid rubbed the back of his neck, though Charlotte returned the heated glared as she growled. "This ain't the time for arguing. Right now, we gotta figure out how we're gonna get past those walkers."

"I just wish you bothered to tell us. Having a baby will change a lot of shit! We have to think about getting supplies for it; diapers, baby formula, and then there's the actual birth! We don't even have a _doctor!_ " He hissed, turning to Omid as he added. "Mason knows how to treat cuts and wrap bandages, but delivering a baby is completely out of the question!"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there, but we have to focus now." He pointed out, turning to Charlotte with a worried glance. "We still haven't figured out a way to get past the walkers."

She hummed, before turning her attention back to the situation on hand. Lifting the rifle up again, she looked around the area for anything that could be of use, trying to think of a way to get the walkers moving. Softly, she listened as Omid suggested to her. "We could use sound to lure them away. Back in Savannah, this girl used the church bells to move the walkers to one area while she savenged the other. That might work here."

"I don't see any churches around, let alone one with bells." She replied, trying to see around for anything else that would cause a racket.

"You don't need bells." Dylan explained, watching the roads as Omid looked over at him in confusion. Charlotte moved her head away from the rifle, keeping it upright as she too stared down at her brother, listening as he carried on with his explanation. "See if you can find a car, or a couple. You set the alarms off, and while the walkers are going to investigate, we can sneak into the pharmacy."

"That ain't a bad idea. I'll see if I can see some." She agreed, looking into the sights to see if she could spot any vehicles that the group could use. They couldn't be too far away, otherwise the walkers may not hear it, and sure enough, she spotted a couple of cars down the road that had been abandoned. Lowering her rifle, she muttered to the others in a low tone. "Found some just down the road. They should lure the walkers away, and let us see if there are any of them hiding around."

"One of us should go." Omid explained, receiving surprised looks from the others as he sighed. "We can't all go and set the alarms off. One of us can sneak past the walkers to the cars, and then flank them when they start approaching."

Dylan nodded at that, glancing up at Charlotte as he offered. "I can do it."

"Absolutely not. It's too dangerous, and if walkers somehow cut off your escape path… I just can't let you do that." She rejected, earning a heated glare from her brother. Omid watched the two stand off, nervously eyeing the walkers down the road while Charlotte continued to dig her feet in, refusing to budge on the matter. "I don't want you risking your life like that."

"Every single day in this shithole we live in I'm risking my life. When are you gonna stop treating me like a little kid?" He demanded, his question stunning Charlotte into silence as he waited for some kind of answer from his guardian. Her face fell, and she listened as he carried on in a annoyed tone. "I'm smaller than either of you, I can sneak more easily past the walkers, and I'm quicker on my feet. So, I'm going."

Charlotte shook her head, before sighing loudly and agreeing with her brother. "Alright, buddy. I'll give you this chance, but if something happens out there-"

"It won't. I promise." Dylan nodded, eager that he was finally given a chance to help the group, rather than being shoved to the sidelines by his overprotective sister. With a nod from Omid, he took out his pistol and started to make his way over to the cluster of cars, keeping low as he watched the walkers near the pharmacy. Charlotte held her breath, following after Dylan with Omid by her side. Quickly, the three separated with Charlotte and Omid sneaking over to an overturned truck, while Dylan continued forward towards the cars.

Pressing her hand against the cold metal, she peeked around the truck and watched the walkers as they remained unsuspecting of the survivors sneaking around them. Finally, she released her breath when she saw that Dylan had managed to reach the cars undetected. The teenage boy looked at the vehicles for a moment, before gesturing to Charlotte and Omid with a point of his finger, signalling them to watch the walkers while he set off the trap. She obeyed, turning her head to look over at the front of the pharmacy, watching the undead with a worried look on her face, unable to stop the feeling of something going wrong from twisting in her stomach. She had to believe in Dylan however. He was right, he couldn't be protected by her forever.

A low groan behind her set her hairs on the back of her neck straight up. Glancing behind her, she noticed that a walker had pulled itself out of the truck cab and tried to grab Omid's leg, the grown man jumping out of the way in time whilst trying to stop any yell of surprise from leaving his throat. Quickly, she pulled out her knife and stood on the walker's neck, stopping it from moving anywhere before she pierced the back of its head. All movement ceased, and blood pooled underneath its head in a small puddle, the stench overwhelming as Charlotte covered her nose in disgust. "Disgusting."

"We should be more careful." Omid pointed out, looking from behind the truck at the larger group of walkers. "Next time, we might not be so lucky it was only one walker."

She nodded in agreement. Suddenly, the sound of glass shattering caused both of them to jump in fright, the loud wailing of a car alarm blaring in the air as Charlotte felt her heart stop. Moving around the truck, she saw Dylan moving onto another car as he smashed the window with his gun, opening the passenger door to do something. Shaking her head, she wanted to yell at him to hurry up and get out of there, noticing that the walkers in front of the pharmacy had noticed the sudden sound and started advancing onto Dylan's location. Her mind was yelling at her to run and save him, but Omid had grabbed her upper arm when he saw the grown woman trying to move from their hiding spot, shaking his head silently when she looked over at him in terror. Going out there would only botch up their plan, and likely get Charlotte and the others killed, but she couldn't bare the thought of sitting there while the undead descended onto her brother.

He's just a kid. The thought ran through her mind, Charlotte repeating it with fear setting in, before she shook her mind free of the troubling ideas. Dylan was a survivor. He had to be, considering they survived for this long into the apocalypse. So, she watched, and that niggling fear in her stomach lessened somewhat when she saw that Dylan was pushing a body onto the horn, making more noise as he slammed the door shut once more. Kneeling down, he saw the walkers approaching and started to move around the car, out of Charlotte's sight. Not being able to see him, it caused warning sirens to go off in her mind, but she couldn't give much heed to them as she saw an opening to get inside the pharmacy.

"Come on!" She whispered harshly to Omid, sneaking around the truck and making her way over to the building as fast as she could. The loud sirens covered the sound of their footsteps. Glancing over at the walkers, she noticed that Dylan was no longer at the cars, and wondered where the teenager had gotten to. Cursing under her breath, she turned her attention to the front doors of the pharmacy, noticing that the glass doors had been smashed in, the glass littering the inside of the building.

"There isn't anything stopping the walkers from getting in if they find us. We gotta be quick." She ordered, slipping through the broken door with Omid close behind her. Inside, she saw that the pharmacy had already been picked over by scavengers before them, and groaned in frustration with her hands behind her head. All the shit they went through to get there, and there isn't any to show for their efforts.

"We should comb over this place. There has to be something that other people have missed." Omid wondered hopefully, trying to keep the situation light as he went around the aisles to see if there was anything left. Charlotte wondered if she should join in, but she wanted to make sure that Dylan had made it out in one piece. Peering through the door again, she saw that the walkers were still distracted, and yet she couldn't make out where her little brother was. Her heart fell, and she couldn't help but fear the worst.

However, a door opened loudly from behind the counter, causing the two survivors to be on edge as they watched the door nervously. Charlotte gripped her knife tightly, but when she saw that it was only Dylan that had opened the door, she breathed a sigh of relief and shoved her knife back into her pocket, propping the rifle up against the door before running over to the counter as Dylan closed the door behind him, and made his way over to the counter. She helped him hop over, her hands digging into his jacket as she felt the need to never let go. Instead, she embraced him tightly, her nose in his messy hair as she smelled that familiar scent. It was only then that she realised how close she was to losing it altogether.

"I appreciate the touching gesture." She heard Dylan mumble into her chest, before he managed to release himself from her grip. "But we gotta look around. The car alarms won't last forever, especially with the state the cars were in when I saw them up close."

"He's right. Come on, kid, you can help me look around." Omid offered, pausing in his search to gesture to the teenager to come and help him. Dylan nodded, lifting the backpack off his shoulders as he jogged over to where Omid was standing. Letting him go, Charlotte couldn't help but smile. The fear had gone somewhat, her brother was back with them, and she felt somewhat guilty for ever doubting that he had what it took to survive.

Glancing back at the door, she called over to the others as she walked back over to it. "I'm gonna keep an eye out. If the walkers look like they're coming back over here, we gotta be gone by the time they get back."

They didn't reply. So, she picked up the rifle again and just leaned against the door, watching as the cars continued to blare out the alarms in the distance. The walkers were trying to figure out where the food was as they circled the cars, while others just stood there, mesmerised by the sound blaring into their ears. She didn't know how long the car alarms would go on for, but given Dylan's warning, she knew that they were on borrowed time. It was times like this that she wished her father was with them. All the trucks and cars, even the family tractor, that he worked on would have been useful for them. Maybe if he was there, they wouldn't have crashed and had managed to get to Charlotte sooner. However, if they did, she dreaded to think that maybe she wouldn't have ran into Omid and the others.

"Erm, Charlie?" She heard Dylan awkwardly ask from behind the aisles. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the teenage boy shuffling over to her with something in his hands, raising an eyebrow in confusion until she saw his flushed face. Slowly, her eyes lowered to the box in is hands and her face heated up, raising a hand over her eyes as he continued. "I-I noticed… that, erm, you ran out in your bag when I was getting the food out. So…"

"Just throw them in your bag, please?" She replied, unable to bring herself to look at Dylan as he nodded quietly, practically running back to an amused Omid and carrying on with searching. Charlotte shook her head, looking back out of the pharmacy with her cheeks feeling like they were on fire. It was sweet of him to grab something for her, but it was also _really_ embarrassing. So, she shoved that thought away and instead focused on her task on hand, narrowing her eyes when she noticed that walkers from the car park in front of a supermarket had started to move over to the cars.

She hummed under her breath, picking herself off the doorframe and looking through the sights of Omid's rifle. The supermarket looked like someone was trying to survive in there, the windows all boarded up and the doors blocked off with cars parked in front of them, looking like the attempts of desperate people. Her stomach growled when she looked over the old signs that the supermarket had up for deals on their food, and she couldn't help but wonder if there was anything left there. That was, if the people were still there. Lowering the weapon, she turned her head around and called out to the others. "There's a supermarket across the street. Could be a good a place as any to find some food."

"Worth a shot, we're running low as it is." Omid replied, shoving a bottle of something into his bag before standing up. "Not much here, anyway. Found some feminine stuff, a bottle of painkillers, and a roll of bandages."

"Guess other people just got here first." Charlotte sighed, looking around as she noticed Dylan's head bobbing up from behind an aisle on the other side of the store. Slinging the backpack over his shoulder, he glanced over the counter with a curious look, before turning back to Charlotte.

"We could check behind the counter. That's usually where they keep the good shit, right?" He asked, before moving towards the counter when Charlotte nodded in agreement. Omid followed after him, both of the survivors hopping back over the counter while the third member of the group went back to keeping an eye out of the walkers. One of the car alarms had given up, the battery likely to have died after months of neglect, but there were still a few going off that kept the walkers distracted. Her stomach twisted in worry however, as there would only be a matter of time before the other batteries gave out and the walkers were left to return to where they once were.

"I'd hurry up, guys!" She yelled back to them, her hands tightening on the rifle as she moved from her casual position against the doorframe. Rustling could be heard from behind her, and when she turned her head to look, she noticed that Dylan and Omid were packing up all they could find. In the distance, she could hear another alarm starting to fail, the once piercingly loud sirens quieting until the battery finally gave out. Only one car remained, and looking through her sights, she saw that the car with the body propped up against the horn was no longer working. "Oh shit..."

"That's the last of what's here!" Dylan piped up, hopping over the counter and running over to where Charlotte was standing, looking out at the cars as he realised that only one was working. "Fucking shit, why isn't the horn working?!"

"You mean you don't know?!" Charlotte replied in an exasperated tone, glancing down at Dylan as he narrowed his eyes in response.

"Forgive me, Dad must have skipped that lesson with me!" He growled, turning his sights back to the car as he added. "Anyway, we should get going if we don't wanna be trapped by the walkers."

"I found some vitamins behind the counter. Should be useful for Christa, you know, with her pregnancy." Omid revealed, holding up a bottle of prenatal vitamins for Charlotte to see. Nodding in response, she watched as he shoved them in his jacket pocket before passing him the rifle back. With a grateful smile, he took the gun off her and glanced over her shoulder, his smile turning into a worried frown as he muttered. "Looks like we're gonna have to get the hell outta Dodge."

"I can see the supermarket you were talking about." Dylan piped up, pointing to the boarded up building that Charlotte had spotted just before. "There could be supplies in there that we need. We gotta check it out."

"I dunno. The car's gonna give out at any moment, we should get outta here while we still can." Charlotte rejected, watching the walkers as some already started breaking away from the group, no longer interested in the car as the alarm get going off. Dylan frowned at this, and when her stomach growled again, it only proved a point to the teenager.

With a gesture of his hand, he snapped at her in annoyance. "Look at us! We ain't gonna survive if we don't have food, and if we come back another day, what if it's just like the pharmacy? What if someone already comes along and takes it?"

"There doesn't seem to be that many walkers near there. If we're quick, we can get in before the walkers even know we're there." Omid agreed, watching the walkers while Charlotte thought it over. Crossing her arms, she glanced nervously at the walkers and thought against trying their luck with them, but her crippling hunger reminded her just how desperate the group was getting. The fish traps were their hope for a renewable source of food, but what would they do if the traps ended up not catching anything?

Quietly, she sighed and nodded. "Alright, but we gotta be quick. Some of the walkers are already getting bored with the alarm."

Dylan nodded eagerly, before taking the front as the group left the pharmacy back through the destroyed doors. Quietly, they moved through the empty car park while keeping an eye of the walkers, Charlotte glancing behind at the pharmacy as they left the building behind. She had hoped that they found more for their troubles, but they would have to deal with it, and she focused on the matter at hand rather than the pitifully small take they had on their backs. The walkers that had moved away form the cars had started to roam the streets, a few making their way back to the pharmacy while the group snuck away, hiding behind the truck that Charlotte and Omid were hiding behind before. Pulling out her knife, she peered around the vehicle and noticed that the walkers hadn't noticed them yet, instead returning to the pharmacy car park.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she turned her head to the other two and whispered. "They hadn't noticed us."

"Yeah, but they ain't noticing the car anymore. How're we gonna get over there without tipping them off?" Dylan pointed out, moving to her side as he too peeked from behind the truck. Charlotte somewhat agreed with him on that matter, but as she continued to watch the walkers, she noticed that they were grouping up, moving further down the road as another alarm further down had been set off. Confusion struck the group, none of them saying anything as they just watched the walkers move as one towards the sound.

"What the fuck?" Charlotte muttered, sharing a look with Dylan as he shrugged his shoulder. Glancing back up, she added in a more relieved tone while watching the undead. "Well, I think this is our chance."

"I'll watch your backs." Omid offered, following after Charlotte and Dylan as they all moved from behind their cover. Standing up straight, they ran across the junction to the other side, making a beeline straight for the supermarket while the walkers were distracted. As they reached the other side, the final car had finally given out and the alarm fell silent, the few walkers that remained turning their attention to the survivors as they paused.

Charlotte gripped her knife tightly, holding her hand out in front of Omid when he made a move to shoot the walkers. "Don't. We start making noise, and the whole herd will come down on our ass. Let Dylan and I take care of it."

"I'm right beside you." Her brother replied, pocketing his pistol as he instead pulled out his own knife. Omid did what she ordered him to do, backing away and keeping an eye out while the others approached the growling walkers, poised to attack as they allowed the undead to be drawn away from the leaving group. Charlotte glanced down at the exposed shin of one of the walkers, unable to keep an eye out on Dylan as she delivered a rough kick to the leg, pushing it from underneath the walker and causing it to collapse to the ground, vulnerable as she stabbed it in the back of the head.

Pulling her weapon free with a grunt, she looked to her side and noticed that Dylan had taken care of the other walker, already piercing its skull as she noticed another walker approaching him. Running to it, she threw her shoulder into the corpse's side, sending it stumbling back and away from her brother. With the attack, it turned its attention to her and snarled, showing off its yellowed teeth with its lips missing. Disgusted with the sight, she lifted her arm and threw it forward, stabbing the walker through its eyeball and into its brain, grimacing at the fluid dripping from the damaged socket. With her other arm, she threw it to the ground and stomped on its head with her heavy boot, feeling the front of its skull caving in as she stamped on it again for good measure.

With it dead, she backed away, turning around to see Omid helping Dylan by smacking a walker in the head with the butt of his rifle, the force put behind the assault causing it to fall to the ground dead. Out of danger, she breathed heavily, trying to catch her breath back as Dylan gasped to her. "We got an opening. Might be wise if we use it now."

"You got that right, buddy." She nodded, looking up at the supermarket before running the rest of the way there. With the others behind her, she panted heavily as she looked down the road, watching the walkers as they carried on after the sound without even realising that the group had already taken care of the few stragglers left behind. Stopping in front of the cars blocking the entrance, she sighed in annoyance, trying to see if they could get through.

"Looks like someone was trying to keep the dead out." Omid pointed out, walking to her side as he kept tight hold of his rifle. "You think anyone's still in there?"

"There has to be someone in this town. The alarm down there couldn't have gone off by itself, right?" She wondered, earning an unsure shrug from Omid while Dylan walked up and down the front of the store, trying to see if he could find a way in. "Either way, these windows are boarded up tight, and we ain't getting in this way."

"I wouldn't give up so easily." Dylan piped up, a smirk on his face as he stood down the other end of the supermarket. Charlotte raised an eyebrow, curious about what he found that made him so happy, and so decided to walk down towards him with Omid beside her. When she reached his side, she realised what he was staring at with that grin of his, and listened as he added. "Looks like their maintenance wasn't up to scratch."

In front of them, she saw that one of the boards blocking the broken window wasn't secured properly, only one end being held up with an unsecured nail. Approaching it, she grabbed hold of the board and pushed hard, feeling the board give up slightly as she tried again. With another rough push, the board finally gave in and fell to the floor inside with an echoing bang. Turning to Dylan, she gave him a pleased smile as she praised him. "Good eye there, Dylan."

Smiling back at her, he waited as she lifted herself up into the window. Peering in, she stopped in her tracks as she stared in horror, the scene in front of her filling her up with dread. There were people in the supermarket. Corpses littered the floor, half decayed with flies swarming around them, the stench causing Charlotte to back off outside and retched what little contents she has in her stomach. Dylan and Omid were shocked by her reaction, unknowing about the scene inside the supermarket before the older man approached the window to peer in. Charlotte was bent over, staring down at the vomit on the floor before wiping her mouth with her sleeve. On her back, she felt Dylan's hand rubbing her softly, his voice concerned as he asked her. "What's wrong, Charlie?"

"Holy shit." Omid piped up, finally seeing what Charlotte saw before he backed away. "Oh, that is _not_ right."

Dylan, pushed with curiosity and worry at the same time, moved towards him and peeked through the window, seeing the massacre inside as he too couldn't stop himself from retching, running past Omid as he threw up. Straightening herself up, she turned towards Omid and saw his distraught face, shocked to see the death inside the supermarket. She thought they would at least be used to it, especially given her past, but seeing all that up close, the stench of rotting flesh wafting into her nose, it was too much for her already sensitive stomach. Still, she pulled herself together and walked over to Dylan, comforting him as he continued to empty his stomach on the tarmac of the car park.

"Come on, buddy." She muttered, helping him upright while he wiped his mouth with a disgusted expression on his face. "We still have to see if there's anything in there that'll make this trip worthwhile."

Nodding, he moaned under his breath, before following after Charlotte and Omid as they pulled themselves through the window again. Jumping down on the other side, she grimaced as she stood in a blood smear, lifting her boot to examine it while sighing to herself. The stench was dreadful, but she had to keep moving around the bodies and the counters to see if there was anything there. With Omid by her side, she instructed him with a gesture of her hand. "It's a pretty big place. We'll need to split up to cover as much ground as possible. I'll take Dylan with me and check this half, you go and check that half."

"Sounds good. We'll meet here when we're done." He suggested, earning a nod from Charlotte before he walked away from the others. With that half being taken cared of, she turned to Dylan and offered him a sympathetic look when she noticed him looking at all the bodies. The sorrow was clear on his face, and as she walked towards him, she listened as he spoke.

"They were people once." He whispered, looking up at her with guilt in his eyes. "People, just like Aaron, Grace, Michelle… everyone in our group. I wanted to hate them for killing Samantha, but some of them were my friends. It hurts, knowing all the things that they did… all the things you and Liz did."

"Now you know why we left. The group, they were scared, but they were making all the wrong choices. I didn't want you or Mason to make those choices either." She confessed, placing a hand on his shoulder. "At least now, they're all in peace. They don't have to live in this shitty world anymore."

"I was such an asshole. I just acted like their deaths were nothing, that they somehow deserved it. They did stupid things, we all did, and yet we're here and they're just more bodies on the road. More of the dead." He sniffed, rubbing his nose with his sleeve as he continued. "I just wanted to hate them. It's easier to hate them than to admit that the people you cared about did such shitty things."

"We can make it up, though. All the things I did, I will make up for them, and that's why I'm going to keep this group alive. Whatever it takes." She promised, guiding Dylan away from the bodies as she muttered softly. "Come on, we still gotta see what's left."

He offered no resistance to her suggestion. Instead, he followed after her silently as they started to comb through the aisles, looking for anything that could be taken. While he started grabbing a few packet of noodles that had been left behind, Charlotte looked down at the freezers, noticing that they were all mostly empty. Given that it had been months since the freezers even worked, she wouldn't trust any of the food that was left behind. So, she just looked through the aisles. The group that had been there before must have started to feel the strain of finding food, considering that as the two moved through the aisles, there wasn't that much left. From behind her, she heard Dylan sigh. "Maybe other people came here and took what was left?"

"There doesn't seem to be any sign of entry, though." She pointed out, picking up a pack of water bottles. She tested the weight, nodding with a smile on her face she see looked over at her brother. "It may not be much, but we need anything we can find."

"Take it out of the packaging and we can fit it in my bag." He explained, pulling the bag off his shoulder while Charlotte started to take the bottles out of the packaging. With the bag opened in front of her, she started tossing in the bottles while Dylan continued to look over the shelves for anything else. Staring at the contents of the bag, she was surprised when Dylan came back with cans in his arms, a pleased look on his face as he laughed. "I found them down there. More beans, and even some canned soup!"

"Soup's always great on a winter day. Shove them in." She smiled, standing up and looking at the picked clean shelves while Dylan packed up his findings. From the windows high up, she could see that the sun was starting to dip behind the buildings, the skies still that deep blue but the light starting to fade, the clouds starting to form as it looked like it would rain soon, or worse. She couldn't deal with walking in the cold again.

"There's some stuff down this way." Dylan piped up, gesturing for Charlotte to follow after him as he jogged down the aisle with his bag over his shoulder. She ran after him, wondering what he found that got him so riled up, watching him as he swung around a corner into another aisle and tried to keep up with the agile survivor. When she too turned around the corner, she saw that it was a stationary supplies aisle. What was left, anyway. Ignoring the files and packets of envelopes that were left behind, she joined back up with Dylan as he stopped near something, the teenage boy lifting up what appeared to be a school bag in his hand.

"You should have one. We can carry more, then." He explained, passing the bag to Charlotte and going about his own business as she looked down at it. It was black in colour, but on the front pocket of the item was a smiley face, and she couldn't help but smile herself at her brother's kindness. So, she pulled the bag over her shoulders and approached him again, noticing that he was eyeing up a book that was abandoned on the shelves.

Glancing up at her for a moment, he looked back and shrugged. "I was just thinking. It should be Christmas soon, I mean, as close as I can think. I don't have a calendar but I'm pretty sure. So, it might be nice if we can find something for Mason and Clementine… Something they can open up on the day."

"That's a sweet idea, Dylan." She replied softly, earning a bashful look from her brother as she picked up the book he was eyeing. Flicking through the pages, she realised that it was in fact a colouring book, the blank drawings on the pages showing animals, plants, even mythical creatures like dragons and unicorns. Looking at him from the corner of her eye, she closed the book and took off her new backpack, shoving it in while smiling. "Clementine should like this book. See if y'all can find some crayons or something for her to colour in with."

Nodding with a grin, he walked over to the part of the aisle where all the pens and stuff were kept, looking over the remaining stock while Charlotte watched him, before deciding to find something for the teenager to open on Christmas as well. Looking around, she combed through the aisles for something that would please her brother, knowing that he was too old for colouring. Moving further down the aisle, she paused when she noticed the book section, spotting a few comic books amongst the more adult books left. Grabbing them, she looked over the cover, noticing it was about superheroes and that. Dylan wasn't a big fan of reading, but he was a big fan of superheroes, ever since he was just a kid. With a nod, she glanced over her shoulder and, when she noticed that Dylan wasn't paying attention, she shoved the comics into her bag quickly.

She looked back up at the books, noticing some of the romance novels and decided that maybe Christa, and herself, would enjoy the books for some entertainment. Plucking a couple off the shelf, she shoved them in with the comics and zipped her bag back up, standing up just in time as she heard Dylan's voice from behind her. "I found some good crayons for Clementine, and I grabbed some drawing stuff in case she finished her book. Paper too."

Turning around, she spotted all the stuff in his hand and nodded with a bright smile, unzipping her bag and taking the supplies off him, quickly shoving them in as she mumbled. "Now we just need something for Mason."

"He already has some CDs from our trip up here. Maybe, we can find something else?" Dylan asked, searching through the stock to see if there was anything they could take. Charlotte joined him in his search, unsure what it was that Mason would want. All this time, she was surprised that she didn't really know his likes or his wants. Before the plague, he was just focused on school, and after everything that's happened, he's just focused on survival. It was quite sad.

Picking up a humorous birthday card, she chuckled at the funny looking penguin on the front before putting it back in the shelf. With Dylan behind her, she spoke up in an amused tone. "You know, considering we're his family, it's a bit strange that we don't know what he wants for Christmas."

"Tell me about it." Dylan responded in a dry tone, picking up a snowglobe with a frown before putting it back down. "I get more flak about it, considering we're twins."

"And so you should, now keep looking." She shot back, earning a glare form Dylan as he did what he was told. Slowly, they made their way up the end of aisle, their findings coming to nil as Charlotte sighed to herself, placing her hands on her hips as she looked around. "Come on, we should meet back up with Omid."

"Wait." Dylan replied suddenly, stopping for a moment before he jogged past Charlotte. Confused, she watched as he stopped near a stand that was separate from all the others, looking over the contents while she wondered what it was that he was doing. After a few seconds, he plucked something off the shelf and turned around, approaching his sister again as he showed her his findings.

In his hand was a polaroid camera, a grin on his face as he finally piped up. "Mason's told me before that he wished he grabbed a picture of our parents before we left. I was thinking that we could give this to him, so he'll have a picture of all of us. In case…"

His face fell, the gravity of their situation setting in as Charlotte stared at him with empathy in her eyes. Slowly, she approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder and smiling sadly, trying to get him to smile back at her as she nodded her head in agreement. "That's a lovely idea. I'm sure Mason will love it."

His smile came back. Her kind words helped him out of his depressive state, and quickly, he shoved the camera in her backpack before the two started making their way back towards the front part of the store, picking up any forgotten food that they could find. While the haul was definitely better than that of the pharmacy, they would definitely need the fish traps to work out if they were going to survive through the winter. Finally, they reached the front of the store again, though Omid had yet to return from wherever he was. So, Charlotte decided to wait for him, propping herself up onto the conveyor belt next to the till with her backpack beside her. Dylan just walked around, unable to keep still like she could. Sitting there, she could no longer hear the alarms in the distance, wondering how long it would be before the walkers would wander back to this part of town, and decided that they should be gone before then.

Quietly, she heard Dylan swear to himself. "Shit."

"What's up?" She asked quietly, keeping her voice low to avoid drawing attention from anything that may be just outside.

Dylan stopped his pacing, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets as he sighed. "I forgot to grab Omid something for Christmas. It wouldn't be cool to get everyone else something and not him."

"Well…" She paused, before deciding to let the teen stray away from her for that moment. "Go and quickly grab him something. I think I saw a joke book back in the other aisle."

"Sure." He nodded, before turning on his heel and rushing back to the aisle where the books were. Charlotte smiled at the sight of him running to find Omid something, shaking her head while chuckling deeply to herself. Dylan may have tried to act like a tough survivor, similar to all the other men in their group, but he did have a heart of gold when given a chance. She just hoped that he wouldn't lose that the longer they went surviving in this world.

She sat there in silence, keeping an ear out for any of those telltale groans that signalled it was time for them to pack up and go. All that she could hear though was the distant birdsong and the wind blowing through the open window, the chilled winter frost causing goosebumps to form on her skin, even when she was wearing multiple layers of clothes. She wished she was back in Texas. The warm summer nights, the beautiful beaches near the Gulf down south, the deep blue ocean and the rivers that her father took her fishing on. She remembered a time where she thought she caught a huge catfish and tried so hard to reel it in, only for it to be an old tire that someone chucked into the river beforehand. Her father wanted to laugh, she knew that, but he didn't. Seeing the disappointment on his young daughter's face, he just put the fishing rod back in her hands and told her to keep trying.

Never give up.

She held those words of advice close to her. In his thoughts, she didn't hear the footsteps coming towards her until she spotted Omid approaching, pushing her memories away as she offered him a smile and asked quietly. "You find anything?"

"There was a small medicine section at the back. Most of the stuff was gone, but I did find some antibiotics. Other than that, just noodles and juice boxes." He revealed, lifting his backpack further up his shoulder while holding his rifle in his other hand. Looking around, he raised an eyebrow and questioned the only survivor there. "Where's Dylan?"

She didn't know what to say, and rather spoil the surprise, she just deflected the question. "He's just gone on a last minute sweep, see if we missed anything. We found some stuff for Clementine and Mason, you know, for Christmas."

"That's an awesome idea. What'd you get them?" He complimented, leaning against the conveyor belt that Charlotte was sitting on, propping his rifle up next to him. Charlotte glanced at her bag, pleased with what she and Dylan picked out for the others.

"We found a colouring book and crayons for Clementine, and a camera for Mason. He wanted pictures of our parents before we left our house, down in Texas… but he never got the chance. At least now, he can have pictures of all of us." She explained, earning an saddened smile from Omid, before he tried to lighten up the mood again.

"Hey, make sure he gets my good side, then." He joked, earning a soft laugh from Charlotte as she watched the front of the aisles, wondering where her brother had gotten off to. She couldn't help it, but worry started to make her stomach twist painfully, the gut feeling like it was tying itself into knots, and yet her brain scolded her for getting so wound up when Dylan was gone for literally minutes.

It was just too quiet. Even Omid was starting to get unnerved with the silence, and evening starting to set in while the light was fading from the skies. Slowly, she jumped down from the conveyor belt and shared a worried glance with the other survivor beside her, the both of them unwilling to say anything in case it jinxed them. Suddenly, she heard something fall to the ground, a loud smash of something like glass breaking echoing through the air, and her heart stop when she heard Dylan's voice yell out. "Get the fuck away from me!"

"Dylan?!" She called out desperately, already running ahead while Omid fumbled for his rifle, trying to keep up with the taller woman as they pelted it down the aisles. Her mind was racing with thoughts, pleading that nothing happened to her brother. Anyone but him. Please, if there was a God up there, let Dylan be spared. With her mind distracted, she almost tripped over her own two feet, her hands pushing her off the ground as she recovered from the blunder. Again, she heard Dylan yell for her.

"Charlie, help!" His frightened voice spurred her to move faster, and when she spun around the corner, she saw Dylan trying to escape someone's grip. It wasn't the undead, as they made no attempt to bite him, and the gun to his head made her heart stop and her face fall in horror. Finally, Dylan spotted her standing there, trying to escape the person's grip as he snapped. "Get off!"

"Get away from him!" She snarled, pulling her pistol out of her pocket and aiming it at the person, her narrowed eyes glaring at them. Omid raised his rifle, ready to defend the group if given the chance, and the three of them were at a standoff. The person was just a woman, dulled eyes staring at them with dark bags underneath, her hair in a messy bun and her skin a sickly pale.

"Put the guns down." She ordered in a chilling voice, keeping a tight grip around Dylan's neck as she snapped. "I ain't gonna shoot a child, but I ain't gonna let some assholes roll over me with _my supplies!"_

"Your supplies? The place was abandoned when we came here, everyone that was here is dead!" Omid pointed out, unsure what the woman was talking about.

His words caused her eyes to widen, a look of pure rage on her face as she growled at them. "They were my friends! We escaped the place, but no, we can never escape this hellhole! You think all you gotta worry about is the dead, but the living will turn on you just as easily! Those people, I thought we were in it together! They lied! You'll lie too!"

"Easy there." Charlotte tried to calm, starting to worry about the survivor's mental state as she raised her hand, trying to approach them to save her brother. Dylan watched with widened eyes, quietly whimpering when his captor shoved the pistol further to his head, closing his eyes momentarily while his sister questioned the deranged woman. "What's happened here?"

"Don't come here with your niceties! That's what the man was like, he said everything will be alright and that we were safe, but I knew better! You're never safe!" She rambled, pulling Dylan further back as she backed away from Charlotte. "Don't you take a step closer, I mean it!"

"Who's the man? Where's this place that your group escaped from?" Omid asked, joining in on the questioning to see what had happened.

The woman glanced over at him, her eyes looking him over before stopping on the rifle aimed at her, before she started to break down into hysterical sobs. Charlotte watched with caution, unsure what would set her off again, but she couldn't leave Dylan in that situation any longer. Finally, the woman gasped between sobs. "He said it was safe! Then… all the rules came in, all the bullshit and the death! I lost my family! I don't know where they are or if they're alright! My little baby… He's only a baby, he needs his mother!"

"Hon…" Charlotte started, moving against towards them with her hand reached out. "Do you know where your family is? Do you need help finding them?"

Quickly, the woman stopped crying and glared at Charlotte, her voice a piercing snarl as she snapped at them. "They were here! When I left to get help, they stayed behind to help someone in our group who was sick! They're all gone… The dead don't lie, but people who were meant to watching out for us lied! I'm not going back, you tell them that Ol' Hilda knows their dirty tricks!"

"Hilda, you're not making any sense. Please, just let Dylan go and we'll leave you alone." Charlotte begged, starting to grow more worried for the safety of Dylan. When the teen tried to removed himself from Hilda's grasp, she tightened her grip and moved back again, seemingly unwilling to actually pull the trigger. That didn't mean she was willing to test that theory, though.

"You his mother?" She suddenly asked, her voice a softer tone than the constant screeching she was doing just then. Charlotte paused for a second, glancing at her brother before shaking her head in response, listening as Hilda carried on. "That won't do. The poor boy, he's only young. Boys need their mother."

"Our mother died months ago. I'm all he has left. So, please, give him back." She begged, watching as Hilda thought about it before quickly adding in a pleading tone. "You lost your family, Hilda. Please, don't take mine away from me."

"You folks should leave now. It's not safe when it gets dark." Hilda suddenly pointed out, confusing the others as she continued to ramble. "I was a mother. I had a little boy with beautiful blue eyes, just like Dylan has. I can be a mother again. We can live here and I won't let what happened to my family happen to him. He'll be my little boy."

"That's out of the question. I can't leave without my brother!" Charlotte snapped, unwilling to abandon her brother to the mad woman. Omid tried to stop her from physically attacking Hilda, grabbing her upper arm tight to make sure the situation didn't escalate out of control, but Charlotte's adamant refusal with the woman's suggestion caused her to turn again.

"You think you're safe out there, that you'll keep him safe and alive! You don't know what you're doing! In the end, we're all gonna die, and I'd rather shoot this boy here than let him leave this place with you, because no matter what, he's just gonna die anyway!" She screamed, her finger moving to the trigger as Dylan cried out in panic, trying to fight against her grip as she continued in her rant. "You're not even his mother! What do you know on raising a child?! How are you gonna keep any of these people ali-?!"

Charlotte didn't give her a chance to finish her ranting as she fired her gun, watching as the bullet shot through the front of her forehead, the blood trickling out as she stared ahead in shock. Dylan took the opportunity to get free of her grip, running forward into Charlotte's arms as the body collapsed to the ground. Her hands gripped into his jacket, keeping him close as he finally broke in her arms, crying softly as she comforted the traumatised teen, shushing him while Omid moved past them. She stayed where she was, watching as he picked up the gun from Hilda's hand and stared at the scene with shock still on his face. Slowly, he turned to face her with widened eyes, none of them unable to say anything as she continued to shush her brother, trying to get him calm enough.

"I had to do it." She finally whispered, meeting Omid's eyes with her own as she repeated herself. "I had to do it. I couldn't lose Dylan. I promised my parents I would protect them no matter what…"

"Shit." That was all Omid could say, before he just stared down at the corpse as the blood formed a puddle under her head. Charlotte looked down at the unblinking eyes staring up at the ceiling, wondering what had happened that pushed the woman so far mentally that she just snapped. With a sniffling Dylan in her arms, she lowered her face until the lower part was pressed into his jacket, holding him close while she finally closed her eyes. She couldn't bare to look at what she did. Hilda was too far along, there was no other way, her brain kept telling her over and over again, trying to think of some excuse for what she did.

 _You killed people before. Why is she any different?_ Her thoughts pointed out, and she honestly had no answer for them. She did kill before, and it was usually without much provocation. It was just business. It was survival. But kneeling there, she realised that it was survival that pushed her to pull the trigger. Cruel mercy. The woman was too far gone, and she had lost so much. She made a choice, and so she would have to live with the consequences on her conscious.

She had to do it.


	8. Dangers From Within

Light had left the skies once more and nightfall had set in. The dark blues offset by the twinkling white stars in the distance, the moon itself a crescent shape bathing the forest floor in a glow. Charlotte took to the front of the group, leading them back through the forest towards the river where the fish traps were left. They had made it out of Albemarle in one piece, the gunshot having attracted the walkers back while they were escaping, but they were already too far away for the undead to notice them. With the temperature dropping again, they hurried along the path quickly to get back home, uneager to be caught in the snow once again. The wind picked up, chilling the tired survivors to the bone and causing goosebumps to form over Charlotte's skin, her arms wrapped around herself in a bid to maintain her warmth. Omid and Dylan kept close to each other behind her, the teenage boy shoving his hands in his zipped up jacket to keep them warm.

He said nothing. After Charlotte had calmed him down back in the supermarket and they escaped, he'd been quiet all the walk home. It was worrying for his older sister, unsure what to say or what to do to help him out of that depressive state. Peeking over her shoulder at him, she stared at his pale face, frowning deeply at his downcast eyes watching his feet rather than the road ahead. Quietly, she sighed to herself and just kept walking, unsure on what to do to help Dylan at that moment. Maybe he just needed time to think through what happened. All that she was certain was that, if he wanted it, she would be there for him as long as she could. That was all she could ever be certain of anymore.

"I've been meaning to talk to you." Omid suddenly piped up, appearing by Charlotte's side with a worried look, one that she mirrored almost perfectly as she nodded for him to keep talking. With a soft sigh, he quietly continued. "About back in Albemarle."

"You mean with the woman." She clarified, watching the path they were travelling down with narrowed eyes. She felt pity for the woman, she really did, but even Charlotte couldn't stop that pange of hatred yet guilt from hitting her heart whenever she was reminded of what she had done.

Nodding to that, he looked away from the female survivor and muttered. "You tried to help her, but then you decided to just pull the trigger."

"Don't you fucking dare." Charlotte warned in a low growl, her head snapping at Omid with her glare intensifying. "She threatened Dylan's life, or did you already forget about that? I killed her. There's no beating around the bush, but if I didn't, she wouldn't have hesitating in shooting my little brother, and who's to say she'll stop there? How could you know she wouldn't turn on us next?"

"I'm not blaming you, Charlotte. I get it. The situation was fucked up and someone's life was endangered, I'd have protected Christa or Clementine if the situation was like that, but it doesn't mean I'm used to seeing a life being extinguished like that." Omid explained, his eyes shifting to the side as he briefly glanced at Dylan. The teenager paid no attention to their conversation, and so he carried on. "Did you ever have to do something like that before? Take a life, I mean..."

Charlotte thought on the question, her face defrosting from her cold anger to a moment of complacency. Her voice, barely a whisper to be heard over the howling winds, muttered back to him. "Haven't we all?"

"Yeah, I guess we have." He agreed, his hand tapping against the butt of his rifle as he pondered something. Charlotte kept silent, unwilling to keep talking about the situation that happened before. It was done, it happened. However, Omid didn't leave the conversation at that as he revealed. "Clementine had to kill him, you know?"

Confused, she turned her head back to him and kept quiet while he elaborated. "Not only Lee. When he was bit and couldn't keep going, she had to put him down, but he wasn't the first life she took. When we found her, she told us he died, but the man that took her? She was scared."

"What happened?" She questioned, her heart clenching when she suspected how the story would go.

Omid kept looking forward, his boots crunching against the fallen leaves and the exposed gravel on the path. His finger had stopped tapping against the rifle, rather pressed against it, with his lips pulled into a thin line on his face. Walking in silence, it was a few tense seconds before he finally mumbled the conclusion of the tale. "Clementine shot him."

"Holy shit." She gasped quietly, staring at the grown man in shock as he just kept quiet. Slowly, she too looked ahead with thoughts running through her head, the surprise causing her to think about exactly what that young girl had to do to survive. What she saw while with Omid and Christa, and even beforehand, it made her worry deeply over the mental state that Clementine had. She didn't seem like your typical kid, and yet that was to be expected with it being months into the plague already.

It made her think about what Dylan and Mason would have had to do if she wasn't there watching their backs. In order to survive, they would have had to do some pretty fucked up shit as well. If she was being honest with herself, for once, that thought scared her deep to the core. As long as she was there, she hoped that she could protect her brothers from that kind of thing, as well as Clementine, for as long as her group decided to stick around with the small family. However, the wind picked up with harsh gales forcing her mind to focus on her surroundings, her teeth chattering together as she lifted up the hood of her jacket and the bandana around her face. Dylan took that cue to lift his own hood up, both of them trying to keep warm while hurrying back to the cabin. Back to the others.

"This is just gonna get worse, you know?" She pointed out to Omid, waiting for him to glance over at her before continuing. "I mean, the cabin is good for some time, but eventually we're gonna have to move on. The towns around us are gonna run outta food, and with the baby coming, we're gonna need better protection."

"We're pretty isolated in the forest. It would take some luck for someone to come across it." He countered, trying to keep optimistic about their situation while Charlotte just frowned, her lips hidden behind the worn fabric wrapped around her face. "If the fish traps work out, we won't have to worry that much about food. It could be a nice set up."

For a moment, she was silent, until she finally conceded to Omid. "I suppose you're right. I'm just not used to staying in one place for long."

"Hey, you're preaching to the choir. We hadn't settled down anywhere until we found the cabin." He confessed, smiling at Charlotte before they both fell silent. Over the wind bellowing in her ears, she couldn't hear much else, and rather she spotted the trees thinning out as they approached the river where they had set the traps up.

Slowly, they moved out of the protection of the trees and looked around for any danger. Charlotte's shoulders were hunched, her fingers ghosting over the pistol that she kept in her pocket, one of them pausing when she found the trigger before she retracted them again. When there was no sign of walkers around the area, the group settled somewhat, keeping an eye out for anything while they approached the fish traps. Pausing in front of one, she listened as rustling could be heard behind her, remaining kneeled in front of the fish trap as Omid finally piped up with a joyed tone. "Hey, I found this back in the supermarket. Thought we could use it to put the fish in."

Turning her head, she noticed a small fish box that the other survivor had pulled out of his rucksack held in front of her, quickly taking it from him as she flipped open the lid. When she peered inside, it was small enough that he was able to fit it into his backpack, and so would not be able to hold that many fish, but it was better than nothing. Maybe when she went on another scavenging trip, she'd try to find one that was bigger to leave in the cabin. "This'll do."

So, with the fish box on the ground, she lifted the fish trap out of the water and placed it down next to the box, unable to hide her disappointment with how few fish were caught. Pointing at the other trap, she ordered Dylan in a quiet voice. "Check the other trap, Dylan."

Silently, he obeyed her order and shuffled over to the second fish trap that they left in the river, pulling it out of the water before he opened the hatch and peered in. Annoyance was clear in his voice, Charlotte glancing over to see him frowning at the trap, before he met her gaze and grumbled. "Not that many fish in here."

"Maybe we'll get more when the fish move upstream?" Omid wondered, causing the siblings to look back at him in confusion. Shrugging, he carried on with his explanation. "Like, when the salmon come up the river and you always see the bears eating them? None of you guys watched it on the TV before?"

"That's in the fall. We could be waiting a whole year before the fish pick up." Charlotte sighed, starting to pack up the few small fish into the box while Dylan grabbed the two that was in his trap. There may have been more fish than people in their group, but they were pitifully small, and she didn't know if they would travel up the river with the walkers coming out of the cities and disturbing the wild. If push came to shove, she could go out and hunt for any deer or something, remembering some tips that her dad gave her when he took her out during hunting season. It was times like that one where she wished she had listened.

"Maybe we can find more fish traps and set them further down the river." Dylan suggested, pointing down the river with a thoughtful look as he asked the others. "Dad said that fish are more likely to bite if we have bait. Throw some worms in there, and we should get more fish."

"It's too dark to go looking for worms now, but we can come back tomorrow and bait the traps." Charlotte compromised, closing the trap lid as she lowered it into the river again. Dylan copied her actions, closing the trap and lowering it into the river before approaching with the fish he took out, tossing them into the fish box and watching as his sister closed the lid, picking up the box and weighing it slightly before she turned to the others. "Come on, the others will probably be wondering where we've gone."

Box in hand, the group set off back to the cabin quickly, desperate to get out of the cold and to enjoy some dinner before resting. Omid took the front, keeping an eye on their surroundings with his rifle clutched tightly in his hands, his back to the siblings as Charlotte glanced down at Dylan. He didn't meet her gaze. Rather, he pulled out his knife and kept walking, ready to react if any danger came across their path. Her gaze switched from the teenage boy to Omid, before going back to Dylan again and pausing. She didn't know what to say, but she decided to bite the bullet and took in a deep breath, her voice a quiet whisper as she finally called out to him. "Hey, bud?"

He finally looked up at her, silent until she took the cue to keep talking. Sighing, she carried on in her low tone. "I know things have been pretty shitty today, and you have every right to feel the way you do, but just know that I'm here for you, okay?"

"I appreciate the concern, Charlie, I really do but…" he paused, his eyes falling to the ground as he finished with a tired hint in his voice. "I don't want to talk about it. I'm fine, really."

His words brushing off her concern did little to calm Charlotte's nerves, and she was unable to let the situation go as she continued to prod. "Dylan-"

"I said I'm fine, okay?!" He snapped harshly, his voice echoing through the trees as the group stopped and froze in place. Listening out, she heard no sounds that would come from walkers, or other survivors running after the source of the sound, and after a few tense and silent seconds, she looked back down at Dylan with a hurt expression on her face. The teen stood there, his anger slowly melting away again as he just sighed and walked past her, his shoulder brushing against her as all Charlotte could do was watch him leave. Omid had to move to avoid being bumped into by the teenage boy, and watching his back as he carried on down the path, the older man then slowly turned to glance over at Charlotte, offering her a saddened smile that she couldn't bring herself to return.

The weren't given the luxury of the silence for long. Somewhere in front of them, the two adults could hear the low growls of walkers, and with the knife clutched tightly in her hand, Charlotte followed after Dylan to make sure he was alright. Her heart started to beat faster, the thundering blood in her ears as she found her brother not that far from them, already in a tense position as a walker had stumbled out of the forest. With his knife, he kicked the walker in the shin and jumped to the side as it tumbled down, before stabbing it in the neck. With a grunt, he pulled the knife out and grimaced at the stench of the rotting flesh, unable to react when another walker appeared behind him and grabbed hold of his jacket.

A yell of surprise came from the boy before he pulled forward, managing to escape its grip before the walker latched onto his arm with its withered hands. Dylan struggled to free himself, and Charlotte found herself dropping the box and moving without any hesitation, her hand hooking under the walker's chin as she stabbed it viciously into its eye. The fluid dripped out, mixed with the discoloured blood, and she sighed in relief when the jaws stopped gnashing at her and its hands lost their grip on Dylan's jacket. Pulling himself free, he watched as Charlotte released her grip on the walker's throat and allowed it to drop to the floor dead, breathing heavily as he finally gasped out. "Thanks."

"We're a team, Dylan. You don't have to do anything alone." She comforted, placing her hand on his shoulder as she smiled. "Not while I'm here."

He thought for a second, his lips pulled in a deep frown as he just nodded softly. Behind them, she heard a dull thud before turning her head quickly, unsure what had happened until she saw Omid standing before another walker, the front of its head caved in from the forceful blow with the butt of his rifle. Lowering the gun, he walked over to the others and wondered. "Seems like they're moving out of Charlotte now. Looking for food, I would guess."

"There doesn't seem to be anymore around. We should hurry back to the cabin and bunker down for the night. It ain't safe wondering around here in the dark." She warned, picking the abandoned fish box before pushing Dylan to move on, keeping the teen in front of her while Omid kept to her side. The trio ran through the forest, their shoes crunching against the old fallen leaves and the snow that had remained from the previous night. Soon enough, more snow started to fall from the sky, soft and pure white as they floated softly to the ground. Her breath misted in front of her face, what little was able to move past the old bandana covering her mouth and nose.

The fabric did little to keep the frost at bay. Luckily, the group were not that far from the cabin as a lone light could be seen in the pitch darkness. Charlotte paused at the outskirts of the opening, watching the cabin before she heard more walkers nearby, surprised to see the undead moving so far away from the cities. Dylan, having not noticed his sister's pause once they reached the opening within the forest, kept walking towards the cabin, his feet starting to drag as exhaustion became apparent in the younger survivor. Omid stopped in his tracks as well, staring at Charlotte as her head turned towards the direction where she could hear the walkers, until she glanced back at the grown man and muttered. "They're close by, can't you hear them?"

"The light in the cabin is drawing them like a beacon." He muttered, walking with Charlotte beside him. "We'll blow out the candles when we get in."

"You and Dylan take the stuff, I'll thin the numbers around the cabin. That way, we ain't gonna have to deal with the fuckers outside our door." She offered, passing the fish box to Omid as he shot her a look of disbelief, unsure exactly why she would want to go back out there with the walkers. However, she didn't give him much to argue about as she practically forced the box in his hands, nodding silently before she left his side to go hunting. Behind her, she heard as Omid's footsteps became quieter and quieter, leaving to go into the cabin with Dylan and bring their catch of the day to the other hungry survivors in their group.

Knife tight in her hand, she didn't have to search long to find a lone walker stumbling around, as if disorientated and unsure where to go to find its next meal. Crouching low, she watched the corpse pause for a minute, a low groan coming from it as its head turned in her direction, its face nearly covered in pitch black darkness. Holding her breath, she continued to watch as the walker turned away from her before she dared to make her approach, trying to keep as silent as she could. Her breath fogged in front of her face, eyes trained on the walker as she straightened up right behind it, and before the undead could react, she plunged the blade deep into the back of its head. The heavy thud of the body collapsing to the ground echoed for a moment, and all fell silent again as she pulled the knife from her kill.

Groaning with disgust as blood splattered out with the removal of the knife, she backed away from the dead walker with her hand in front of her nose, a soft mutter coming from the grown woman. "Ugh… God."

There was no time for a break, however, as she came to realise that the walker was not alone. Slowly, another one had started dragging itself across the frozen ground, the snow that had fallen balling underneath its decayed hands as Charlotte sighed to herself. There, she noticed another walker stumbling out of the forest, its eyes focusing on her as loud growls of hunger came from its exposed mouth. Quickly, she approached the crippled walker and stabbed it in the top of its head, watching as its hand, reached out to attempt to grab her, fell to the ground with a silent thud. Turning her head, she backed off as the walker tried to lunge for her, causing the walking corpse to stumble slightly and try to regain its footing. Seeing an opportunity, she kicked the walker violently in the side of its leg, her stomach churning at the sound of bone braking under the force.

Without the support of its leg, the walker tumbled over to the ground and laid there stunned. Breathing heavily, she approached the walker and, ignoring its vicious growls as its hands latched onto her sleeve, she used her weight to keep her arm from getting bit with the walker's gnashing teeth. With a grunt, she threw the knife downwards and winced when blood splattered upwards onto her bandana, staining the worn fabric as the knife pierced the front of the walker's head, its jaws ceasing any movement and its hands finally releasing the tired survivor from its grip. Wrenching herself from it, she stared down at the corpse while panting, the cold air feeling like thousands of tiny daggers cutting up her throat, before she turned around and noticed that the group had blown out the candles around the house, the light diminished significantly from behind the frosted windows.

With the walkers around having been diminished, she wiped the blade of her knife on her jeans while walking back to the cabin, staring down at the cleaned blade as her hand twisted it around, before she just shoved it in her pocket once she reached the stairs leading up to the front door. The old wood creaked terribly under her weight, yet she ignored it as she quickly made it up and approached the front door, desperate to get out of the cold as her hand turned the knob slowly. The inside of the cabin wasn't much warmer, but it was a welcome refuge from the howling wind outside. Slowly, she pulled down the bandana around her face and lowered her hood, brushing a strand of her hair out of her face as she heard soft whispers in the living room.

Peeking around, she noticed Omid and Christa talking in the corner of the room while Dylan went through the stuff that they scavenged that day, rotating a can of beans in his hand as he examined the half worn label on it. Mason and Clementine were fast asleep on the couch, the taller teen stretched from one end to the other while his arm was draped around the tiny child, her baseball cap hiding her eyes as she slept peacefully. A smile crept on Charlotte's face as she walked further into the living room, watching her brother sleep while Christa explained in a soft tone. "They tried to stay awake until you guys came back, but they were just too tired."

"Poor guys." She sighed, sitting down on the couch arm as her fingers brushed some of the dark locks from in front of Mason's eyes gently. "Everything been alright while we've been gone?"

"Mason's been a good kid. Doesn't really talk that much, though." Christa revealed, staring at the boy's face while Charlotte hummed in response. Watching as his chest moved up and down softly with every breath he took, she listened as the pregnant woman in front of her continued on to question her. "He told me about your parents… back in Texas. I'm sorry about what happened to them."

A short laugh came from Charlotte, confusing the others as she quickly stopped herself. Her hand moved away from Mason's forehead, rather propping underneath her chin as she shook her head slowly, a deep sigh replacing the laugh as she revealed. "You know, you're probably the first person that Mason told about our folks. He and Mama… they were close."

"How did they die?" Christa wondered, hesitation clear in the way she asked as she tried to avoid hurting the other woman. Charlotte paused, her fingers tapping against her cheek as her eyes were highlighted by the fire dimly, the low flames the only source of light within the room. The sound of Dylan ruffling through his backpack ceased, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw him watch his older sister with a downcast gaze and a deep frown on his face. She shared his look, feeling the sting of the missing people in her heart as she finally plucked the courage to confess.

"Mama was bit, when this all happened. No one knew what to do, the phone wasn't working, so my dad, he… took my motorbike. Told us to keep Mama calm until he got back with help." She paused, closing her eyes momentarily as she could recall the words echoing in her mind. The deep drawl of her father, thick with that accent, ordering Elizabeth and her to remain with their brothers and mother, to keep the peace until he got back. Quietly, she finished her story. "He never did."

"Oh, shit. Did your mom…?" Omid trailed off, clearly curious about the tale and yet forcing himself to hold his tongue in case the story was too much for Charlotte to recount.

"She died." She replied suddenly, surprising the others with how quick she brushed off the questions. Her heart constricted painfully with the thought of what happened, but she wasn't in the mood to drag the conversation out longer than it had to. Omid and Christa knew anyway, that was all that needed to be said. Dylan didn't react well to her tone, however, throwing the supplies back in his back before standing up, a scowl on his face as he stormed out of the living room and up the stairs to his bedroom. His footsteps echoed all over the cabin, and when a loud slam of the door caused the group to flinch, silence took over the space once more. Charlotte sighed under her breath, her hand moving over her eyes as she felt a headache slowly form behind her eyes.

The loud slam woke Mason up, his eyes snapping shut as his body jolted upright on instinct, accidentally waking Clementine up as well as the young child gripped onto the teen's jacket. Bright blue eyes glanced around, and when he saw that the group was around him and that no danger was there, his body loosened up and he sighed in relief, propping his head on the arm of the couch as he stared up at his sister. Charlotte said nothing, instead her slender fingers moved through his thick mop of hair affectionately while she looked up at the other adults in the room. Clementine, still exhausted from her trip and lack of sleep, fell asleep once more while Mason moved his arm, leaving his hand on her back and keeping her close. Closing his eyes, he mumbled to Charlotte. "How long have you guys been back?"

"Just got in. Dylan's gone to bed." She explained, slowly standing up from her spot as she picked up the bag that Dylan was going through. "I'll put the supplies away."

"Here, I'll help you." Christa offered, grabbing Omid's bag and the original backpack that they brought to the cabin. Charlotte didn't reject any help, rather silently leading Christa to the kitchen with her brother's backpack in hand. The kitchen was a pretty good size given how small the cabin itself was; a table with chairs propped underneath sitting in the middle of the room, unlit candles sitting on the table and dotted around on the counters. The door quietly shut behind the two women as they stopped near the cupboards. Dropping the bag at her feet, she opened the doors up while Christa stopped by her side, lifting the bags up onto the counter and opening them up.

Silently, they started packing away all the supplies that they found. The noodles, cans of beans or soup, and the bottles of water that Charlotte and Dylan found in the supermarket. Occasionally, Charlotte would glance over at Christa, before turning away as soon as the other woman turned her head to look at her. She didn't know what to say. The silence turned awkward, and soon enough, she piped up in an attempt to break the ice between them. "Omid told me that you guys had a cat?"

A short laugh came from Christa, her hands paused in putting away the supplies as she just looked down at a bottle of water. "Out of all the things that happened to us, and he told you about that cat? He hated me, you know?"

"Don't all cats hate people?" Charlotte shot back in an amused tone, earning another quiet chuckle from Christa as she shrugged her shoulders.

"Maybe, but that cat loved Omid. Every time he came into the room, that cat would be following after him. Whenever I tried to pet it, it turned into the cat from hell." She explained, glancing over at Charlotte as the latter gave her a surprised look. "Don't worry, he never did anything too damaging to me. Just a few scratches at the worst of times."

A low chuckle came from Charlotte in response, her hands pausing as her smile faded somewhat and her eyes fell downwards to the can that her fingers tapped against. Slowly, she pushed away the thoughts of the past and just kept packing her stuff away, listening as Christa continued to question her about her previous life before the plague. "Mason told me that you guys lived on a farm before all this. I always liked the countryside, more than the cities anyway. Omid would have loved to live on a farm."

"It stunk and was loud, but it was home." Charlotte reminisced, the smile returning to her lips as she laughed quietly. "I was hardly there when I got older. Went off to university in Houston, and then was planning to get an apartment in the city. Dylan wouldn't talk to me for weeks when he found out."

"What were you studying?" Christa asked, curious about the university that the other woman mentioned.

She put away the last can of soup with a thoughtful look, glancing over the supplies that they had gathered before closing the doors and turning her attention back to Christa, watching as she closed the backpack and tossed it over by the table. Crossing her arms, she revealed with a soft, genuine smile. "Law. I actually got my undergraduate degree just before the plague."

"That must have been tough to get." Christa started, rubbing her back with a look of discomfort flashing over her face. Worry gnawed at Charlotte's insides as she approached the other survivor, watching as the pain faded away and she just brushed off the silent concern that Charlotte had for her. "I'm fine. Just back pains."

"You know how far along you are?" The Texan asked suddenly, unable to stop her eyes from glancing down at the small bump forming in Christa's stomach. She didn't respond to that. The worry from before grew into a ball that tore up her gut, the thought of dealing with the birth and a newborn infant in that fucked up world, all of it suddenly crashed down, and she realised it then. It was all real.

Fuck.

"Little over three months, I think. I don't know anymore." She confessed, her voice quiet and almost vulnerable. The tone, so different from the cold words she received when they first met, and the stern orders as she likely had been before the meeting the previous night, it was a surprise. However, as quickly as it showed, Christa pushed that fear and concern away as her face hardened, and she turned to exit the kitchen as she muttered to herself. "We'll be okay."

Left standing there in the dark room, Charlotte sighed to herself as she ran her fingers through her knotted hair. Her ponytail had came loose, allowing the strands to fall onto her shoulders, her hair a thick forest on her head that she played with as she pulled her backpack off her shoulders, throwing it onto the kitchen table before quickly following after the pregnant woman. Once she entered the living room, she saw that Mason had awaken from his nap and sat upright, his back pressed against the arm of the couch while Clementine continued to sleep on his waist, her head pressed up against his abdomen while he laid his hand on the top of her baseball cap. The heartwarming scene brought a smile to his older sister's face. Quietly, she crept over to the younger survivors and muttered to Mason. "Here, I'll take her to bed. You go upstairs to bed too."

"What's up with Dylan?" He suddenly asked, catching Charlotte off guard as he added while looking at the staircase. "I heard him storm upstairs before. Was he pissed off again?"

"Look, just go upstairs and I'll be with you in a minute, okay?" She ordered, picking Clementine up into her arms while Mason just frowned at her. However, he didn't argue with her or disobey her orders, rather standing up from the couch and stretching his sore muscles while the eldest of the siblings walked over to the room that Omid and Christa had taken for themselves. Pushing the door open with her side, she kept Clementine close to her chest as the cold from inside the room hit her full force. Her skin covered in goosebumps, even underneath her clothes, a shiver running down her spine, yet she brushed off the effects and entered the room.

Softly, she crept over to the bed and moved the duvet over, placing the small girl onto the old mattress while trying her best not to disturb her. Clementine actually looked peaceful, her chest raising up and down slowly with each breath she took, the sight warming to Charlotte's heart as she carefully removed her shoes. Laying them back on the bed, she reached over and grabbed the duvet to pull it over the tiny body, but stilled when she heard soft whimpers coming from Clem. Glancing down, she listened as Clementine cried out quietly. "Lee… please. Don't become one of them."

Charlotte held her breath at the mention of Lee. Silently, she carried on listening as Clementine whimpered again, calling out for people she didn't even know. "My parents… it's so awful."

"Oh, shit." She mumbled to herself, before sitting by Clem's side and removing the baseball cap, rather placing it on the bedside table and then combing her fingers through the tangles of hair on the child's head. Quietly, she hushed to Clementine in a tender voice. "Shhh, it's okay. It's just a bad dream."

Her words had some effect on the younger survivor. Clem's mutters quietening down as her face turned more peaceful, her hands gripping onto the duvet loosening as Charlotte managed to put them under the quilt to keep her warm. With the child bundled up, she moved her hands away and just sat there, watching as Clem slept with a neutral expression on her face. Slowly, she turned to peek at the pictures on the wall opposite the bed. One of them, a beautifully painted duck, hung there slightly askew, and softly, she moved off the bed and approached the pictures as quietly as she could. Fixing it, she smiled at the pretty picture until she heard a door opening beside her.

Glancing over, she saw that it was Omid coming into the room. The shorter man stood there, looking at Charlotte before he turned to look at the sleeping Clementine in her bed. Without making a sound, he approached the bed and sat down where Charlotte just was, watching Clem sleep before he whispered to the grown woman. "I'm heading off to bed. Mason's gone upstairs if you wanna go and talk to him."

"Sure. Night, Omid." She agreed, making her way over to the open door and leaving the room. Closing the door behind her, she glanced over at Christa and noticed her just sitting on the couch, watching the fire as it continued to burn through the logs fed to it, heat being thrown out into the open room and the flames highlighting her face. She looked exhausted, bags clear under her face and dirt caked onto patches of her dark skin. God knows how long it was since any of them were able to have a bath.

She looked like she needed some time to herself, and Charlotte gave her that as she instead moved towards the stairs. The creak echoed through the silence as she stepped on the first one, a curse muttered under her breath, but she kept climbing up the stairs regardless. Some were terribly noisy, others weren't so bad, and when she reached the top of the stairs, she was engulfed in darkness. Muttering more curses, she rummaged through her jean pocket and pulled out her lighter, flicking the top open as she rolled the stone under her thumb. The flame sparked to life, the small light given from it allowing her to move through the dark hallway towards the boys' room.

Opening the door slowly, she peeked inside, noticing that Mason had a campside lamp on his bedside table, the light from it brightening up the room. Sighing, she looked over at the windows and saw that he had pulled the thick drapes over, blocking any of the light from shining through the window. Quietly, she heard Mason pipe up from his bed, glancing up from his book. "I already pulled the drapes over. No one's gonna see the light."

"Alright, but I want the light out in an hour, okay?" She compromised, approaching the bed as her younger brother nodded eagerly, a smile on his face as he watched his sister sit on the bed by his feet. "What's that there you're reading?"

Looking over the book at the cover, he mused for a moment before revealing. "It's a book about transdimensional body snatchers. Sam gave it to me after she came back from a scavenging trip one day."

"I remember her mentioning something like that." Charlotte revealed, staring at the pale blue cover and the words engraved into the hard surface. Chuckling to herself, she glanced up at Mason's confused expression and explained to him. "I was on that trip with her. It was this shopping mall just outside Austin, and we were caught up the walkers. While I'm trying to grab as much food and medicine that I can, she's grabbing the book and wouldn't even tell me what it was for. It was so stupid, but I couldn't really stay mad at her. She… had that effect on people."

Mason couldn't stop that guilty look from flashing in his eyes. She didn't point it out, rather just sat there as her younger brother turned to Dylan, the other teenager sleeping in the same bed with his back to the others, having been silent the whole time Charlotte was in there. Slowly, he looked back at his sister and muttered. "He didn't want to sleep alone tonight. What happened out there? I mean, he was fine when he left and now he's just… scared."

"We met someone. Out in the town Omid mentioned, I mean. She wasn't in a good place." She started, shaking her head with a dark look on her face that made Mason gulp visibly, slowly closing his book and placing it on his lap while she continued. "She lost her family. Escaped from this place, but she wouldn't say where it was or what happened to her group. In the end, she had a gun to Dylan's head, and I had to shoot her to protect him."

"Holy shit." Mason swore, his head turning to look at Dylan's back again as he added in a low tone. "Did… you have to shoot her? I get that you do these things to protect us, but I just… I don't like killing people."

"I know, and it's good that you feel that way, Mason. Killing people changes you and not for the better. But sometimes, to protect the people you love, there's no other way around it. I wish I could tell you different, but that's just what this shit world has dealt us." She sighed, placing her hand on his own with a comforting smile. He tried to return it, yet it fell short as he just stared down at her hand. "You gotta protect yourself and your family. That's all that matters anymore. I want to say that people aren't gonna die, but you already know that's bullshit. Samantha, Aaron, Liz, Mama and Dad… They died, and we're still alive. We owe it to them to keep surviving, because they gave their lives for us to keep going."

"I know. I just wish they were still here with us." Mason replied tearfully, wiping his eyes with his sleeve before lying down in his bed, turning his back to Charlotte as he quickly mumbled. "I'm tired. I'm gonna try and catch some sleep."

"Alright, bud. Goodnight." He didn't respond to that. Slowly, she stood back up and leaned over to the light on the table, turning it off and quickly plunging the room into darkness. Unable to see right in front of her, she flicked open her lighter once more and used the flame to guide herself out of the room, quietly closing the door behind her before pausing. Leaning against the wooden frame, she tapped the back of her head on it and muttered under her breath. "Shit…"

It was late. Exhaustion racked at her body, her eyes struggling to stay open, and so she decided that she might as well get some sleep in the other room. Her footsteps echoed into the darkness, the sounds of the wind blowing viciously outside clear even within the cabin. At the very least, she was grateful not to be caught up in that storm again. The cabin itself was a Godsend. Reaching the door leading into the other bedroom, she glanced at the mechanical fish hanging on the door and smirked at it, amused with the choice of decoration as she entered the room. Inside, she approached the windows and closed them, before turning to the bed propped up against the wall. The mattress sank under her weight as she sat on top of the duvet, her hands pulling the boots off her sore feet and massaging the tender flesh through her socks, a sigh of relief coming from her lips as she just threw herself onto the bed.

Staring up at the ceiling, she tossed the lighter onto the tableside as best she could, hearing it tumble to the floor before cursing to herself, deciding that grabbing it would be a chore for tomorrow Charlotte. The room was just as cold as the others, the window vibrating with the wind beating against it outside, the sound echoing through the room and was generally annoying for Charlotte to listen to. With a grunt, she rolled until she was on her stomach before pushing herself up, pulling the duvet back just enough for her to slip underneath. The pillow was somewhat soft, a welcoming change to the sleeping bags from before, or even the couch from last night, and she snuggled into it while pulling the duvet around her slim frame. Her body heat radiated from her, warming up the small pocket of air within the duvet, and soon enough, she found that her body was starting to get warmer, only her face exposed to the cold air within the room.

Closing her eyes, she found that sleep was quick to come to her that night. However, screams echoed in her head, voices that were so familiar and yet others that were complete strangers to her. She couldn't find the bodies that the voices belonged too, unable to find her family or her group, rather just left abandoned by everyone. Alone. Her breathing quickened, her legs aching as she ran through the forest, trying to escape the horde of walkers that were descending on her, calls for help and cries of panic going ignored as no one came to her aid. That woman, Hilda, her own shrill screams made her ears hurt, her words digging into her mind. The group she ran away from, the community, she didn't know who they were. Where they were. If they were going to be a problem for her family, she did not know, but her family was not there.

She didn't know where they went.

A walker grabbed her. She tried so desperately to get away, kicking it in the face to make it let go before scampering away, just in time to avoid being caught by the others that stumbled towards her. There was nowhere to escape, until she found a lodge up on the hill. Quickly, she ran up, her hands dirty and sore as she finally managed to reach the top. The walkers were having a harder time. Without giving them a chance to catch up, she ran towards the boarded up windows and banged on them loudly, calling out for help. No one came. Desperate, hungry, scared. There was nowhere for her to hide. Turning around, she saw the walkers approaching her, mouths open and growls of hunger loud in her ears. She barely escaped an attempt from one of them to grab her, running over to a tall tower overlooking the valley.

Her feet pushed her up the ladder, kicking about to find a grip, and she grunted in exertion as she continued to climb. Out of the walker's reach. Once she reached the top, she was taken aback with the beauty of the forests all around her, the sound of the wind blowing in her face and the growls of the walkers quieting down until she was the only one there. Sitting down, her back pressed against the cold metal of the safety bar, she rested her head against it and took a moment to catch her breath. Until she felt a pain in her hand. Glancing down, she couldn't stop a gasp of horror when she saw those telltale bite marks around her thumb. With a shaky breath, she held her hand close to her and knew that it was the end.

She would wait for it. Alone and on top of a tower with walkers all around her, there was no happy ending to that tale. So, she closed her eyes, and waited.

Jolting upright with a gasp, Charlotte leaned over her bed and tried to calm her breathing down, feeling her chest ache and her heart race so fast that the blood was loud in her ears. Pressing a hand to her chest to calm herself down, she quickly scrambled for her lighter, feeling around in the pitch black until she felt the cool metal of her lighter and plucked it from the floor. Lighting it up, she sat upright in her bed and looked down at her hand, checking it over for anything. There was no bites there, or on her other hand. Sighing in relief, she released her thumb on the lighter, extinguishing the flame and sitting in darkness. Her breathing slowed down eventually, her heart beating at a calmer pace, but she couldn't shake off the uneasiness from her dream as she placed her face in her hand, resting her forehead between her thumb and index finger.

"Fuck." She swore to herself. Sitting there in the dark, she glanced over at the drapes covering the window and decided to get up, throwing the duvet off her body before shivering at the cold seeping into her, even while she was wearing her jacket and socks. A yawn escaped her throat as she slipped her shoes on, not bothering with the laces and instead approaching the covered windows. Peeking outside, she saw that it was still pitch black out there, the night sky covered in dark clouds that rolled along, hiding the stars and moon beside the wispy smoke.

Allowing the drape to fall back into place again, she stifled another yawn while walking over to the door of her bedroom. The creaking of the door when she opened it was louder without any background noise within the cabin. Striking her lighter again, she used the light to guide her towards the stairs, slowly descending while trying to not make any noise that would wake up the other people in her group. Over the bannister, she saw that Christa had already retired to her bedroom, the fireplace put out with nothing in the open space, not even embers. Once she reached the bottom, she decided to light the fire up again and snuck over to the bag of firewood that they left by the place. The diminished amount of tinder left caused her to frown deeply, and she grumbled while throwing some of the tinder in the fireplace.

"Gonna have to go out tomorrow and chop some." With a piece of paper in her hand, she used the flame from her lighter to burn it before placing it in the midst of tinder, poking the logs around while the fire took a while to heat up. Eventually, the flames grew larger and she felt her body bathed in the heat, shuffling up until her back was pressed against the couch. Her arms wrapped around her legs, she remained like that with her chin resting on top of her knees, staring at the fire while listening as the flames ate through the fuel given, the crackling the only sound she could hear besides the wind howling just outside her window.

She would try to get some more sleep, but that nightmare echoed in the back of her mind and she instinctively rubbed the skin around her thumb, just making sure that she was in fact not bitten. With the fire burning beside her, and the snow storm raging on outside, she curled in on herself and just rested her forehead against her knees, trying to catch some sleep when she heard a door opening off to the side of the room. Slowly, she raised her head again and looked over in the direction of the noise, noticing someone moving around in the dark. Her hand ghosted over to the gun that was left on the coffee table, but when she saw the person coming out of the shadows, her hand stilled before she pulled it away again, letting it rest on her knee on top of the other hand.

Quietly, she called out to the familiar person with a smile. "What are you doing up at this time, darling?"

"I… I couldn't sleep." Clementine confessed, moving towards the grown woman and the fire as she asked. "Is it alright if I stay on the couch?"

"Sure. Come and park yourself over here." Charlotte nodded, turning her body around to face Clementine as the latter walked over to the couch, climbing on top of it while the other survivor asked in a gentle tone. "Can't sleep too, huh?"

She didn't reply, rather just nodding her answer and lying down on the couch. Her hat wasn't there, exposing her curled dark brown hair and cute pigtails, the purple hair bands standing out amongst the dark strands of hair. Leaning her head against the arm of the couch, she stared at Clem with half closed eyes, before she finally decided to break some of the ice with the child. "I like your hair bands."

"Thanks." Clementine replied quietly, her hand moving to mess with one of the pigtails as she slowly sat up again. With her legs crossed underneath her, she sat with her back against the other arm of the couch, staring down at Charlotte with the fire highlighting her amber eyes. "My friend Lilly gave them to me."

"They're cute. I have a few hair bands left if they ever break." She offered, pulling out one of her own with a smile. Clementine returned the smile softly, her face brightening up as she took one of the hair bands that the older survivor offered to her. Looking down at the dull coloured object, she listened as Charlotte continued with a grumpy look on her face. "They ain't as brightly coloured as yours, but they get the job done."

"I like them. I like your jacket, too. Blue's pretty." She revealed, looking down at Charlotte's zipped jacket as the other glanced at it. The blood stains from the walkers the previous day still stained, leaving patches all over her precious possession, and when she looked over at Clementine's hoodie, she saw faded stains similar to her own smeared all over the fabric.

"I got it from my, erm… my girlfriend." She revealed, watching as Clementine raised an eyebrow and then appear thoughtful, knowing that there was no one else in Charlotte's group that could've been her girlfriend. When her brain made the connection, the young girl's face fell and she listened quietly as Charlotte nodded in response to the change of expression. "She didn't make it."

"So, it's like a mom and dad, but two moms instead?" She asked, earning a small laugh from Charlotte before she just nodded in response. "Okay. I get that."

Charlotte just hummed at that, before turning around and pressing her back against the couch once more, leaning her head against it while finally closing her eyes. She didn't know what to say next, not without the curiosity of how someone as young as Clementine could've made it that far into the apocalypse, and she didn't want to bring up any painful memories that could make it harder for Clem to actually talk to her. While she sat there, she listened as Clementine piped up in a curious tone. "Mason said you lived on a farm? Did you guys have cows?"

"Yeah, and this huge bull with massive horns!" She recalled, using her hands to measure the size of the bull's horns from her head, earning a giggle from Clementine as she continued her story, turning her head to face the child. "We had a lot of animals. Chickens, pigs, I even had a horse."

"Was she pretty?" Clem asked, intrigued when the horse was mentioned as she shuffled closer to Charlotte, trying to keep herself warm by the fire. Charlotte noticed that small movement, and gestured for the kid to come over to her. Eyebrows raised in surprise, she did what she was told and shuffled off the couch, slowly making her way to Charlotte before the latter grabbed her arm gently, guiding her into her lap and wrapping her long arms around Clementine's small frame. It was similar to what she did with Dylan and Mason when they were smaller.

Resting her chin on top of Clem's head, feeling the bushy strands of hair tickling her sensitive skin, she quietly rocked the child while carrying on with the story. "Yeah. She was a beautiful painted horse, with chestnut splotches all over her body."

Clementine glanced up at her with a confused look. "Chestnut?"

"It's basically brown." She replied, feeling Clem's head move as she looked down again. After a few seconds of silence, nothing but the crackling of the fire beside them, she yawned softly and continued, feeling the smaller body on her relaxing as she leaned further back, allowing Clementine to rest her head on her chest while she whispered. "The farm was beautiful in the summer. With the trees moving in the breeze, and when you wake up, the first thing you saw out of your window was the city in the distance. I lived there all my life."

"Do you ever wish you could go back?" Clementine wondered, shuffling around in Charlotte's arms until her legs was over Charlotte's, the child's head propped up against her shoulder as her eyes started to droop. Charlotte kept quiet for a moment, contemplating her question, before just leaning her cheek against Clem's forehead, listening to her slow breathing.

"All the time." She confessed, inhaling deeply while she just sat there, her voice soft as she tried to remain positive. "Maybe we can go back one day. You can see the farm, and we can find more animals and just live there."

"Can I pet the cow when we get a new one?" Clementine asked, tiredness clear in her voice as she fully closed her eyes. Charlotte nodded, and settled down in her spot with the child slowly falling asleep in her arms, a smile on her youthful face at the thought of going back on a farm and just being a kid. However, Charlotte's own smile didn't last long. Staring into the fire as it continued to burn through the logs, slowly and slowly burning itself out, she didn't make any attempt to feed more fuel to keep it going, and instead carefully grabbed the blanket that was left on the coffee table nearby.

Trying her best not to disturb Clementine, she pulled the worn fabric off the table and carefully threw it over herself and the child, covering them both as best she could. Wrapped up, she shuffled about to make herself more comfortable on the floor, and leaned her head against the arm of the couch once again, closing her eyes while the pressure on her shoulder from Clem's head remained there. With her last nightmare plaguing her, she found it difficult to go into that deep sleep once more, and just sat there with her eyes shut until she finally managed to get some sleep. Floating around in the darkness, she was grateful for the lack of dreams in it, yet somewhat hopeful that she could just go back to the past, to be with her family and just pretend for those few hours that everything was alright.

Reminiscing about her farm with Clementine, she realised just how deeply her longing to return to it was. The thought of going back, to see her childhood home and try to rebuilt the life that she had lost, it was just childish want. It wasn't possible anymore. She would keep the idea just for hope for Clementine, anything that allows her to believe in something more than just surviving. Maybe, one day, the group could go back to Texas and just live out as long as they could. The cabin itself was a good place as any to live, especially with the river nearby and the towns that could be scavenged, but it would get more cramped with the baby coming, and she couldn't shake off the feeling that their good luck was going to run out at some time. By the time that she had finally opened her eyes again, she had to squint when the sunlight from outside shone down on her face.

Her neck was stiff, her body aching from the comfortable floor, and her arm was dead from underneath Clementine's weight. Gently, she managed to free her arm from the child and just stared down at her face. She looked so peaceful. She almost felt bad disturbing her, until she heard moving about in the kitchen, along with hushed whispers. Narrowing her eyes, she tightened her grip on Clementine and tensed up when the door opened, before realising that it was only Omid and Christa coming in, the latter holding a plate with what smelt like fish on it. Raising an eyebrow, she listened as Christa explained while putting the plate on the table. "We didn't want to disturb you guys, so we just went to cooking up breakfast. The fish traps are a good idea, but you're gonna have to check them daily if we want to get enough food to last through the winter."

"We thought we'd offer to go to the river today, just to bait the traps and see if we caught lucky." Omid added, pulling the rifle strap over his body while Charlotte watched him. "Afterwards, we could check around and see if there's other towns that we can scavenge."

"That'd be great. I'll stay here and mind the kids." Charlotte offered, turning her head to Christa as the latter nodded in response. Gently, she stirred Clementine from her slumber for breakfast, eager to have something to eat after eating out of cans for who knows how long. Amber eyes fluttered open, blinking to get rid of some of the sleep as the young girl yawned, rubbing her eyes while Charlotte muttered. "Hey, breakfast's ready. Come on."

Lowering her hands, she glanced over at the fish on the table and smiled brightly, obviously happy with the sight of proper food as Charlotte could barely react before Clementine was off her lap and at the table, chowing down on one of the fish while the grown woman pulled the blanket off herself. Folding it up haphazardly, she tossed it onto the couch and shuffled over to the table to finally enjoy her breakfast. Picking up the cooked fish, she glanced at its unblinking eye and grimace, before just digging into the crispy flesh. Even without any seasoning, it was delicious. From beside her, she heard Christa explain to them. "We're gonna head out now while there's still light. We should be back before nightfall."

"Alright, be careful." She replied, watching as the couple made their way towards the front door, Omid raising his hand in a farewell wave before he followed after Christa. The door closed softly, and sitting there with the fish in her hands, Charlotte stared at the front porch with a worried frown on her face, before she carried on tucking into her fish. Clementine had finished already, placing the carcass back on the plate before she stood up and wiped her hands on her skirt.

"Wow, you guys sure demolished that." A new voice called out, the two survivors glancing in the direction of the source. Leaning against the doorframe, Mason stood there with a grin on his face while Charlotte carried on chewing into her fish, tearing some of the flesh from its bones while watching her younger brother approach them. Picking up the plate, he grimaced at the unblinking eye staring at him and grumbled. "I hate fish eyes. They're so creepy."

"Here, be a good brother and get rid of this." Charlotte joked, tossing her finished fish carcass onto the plate while Mason frowned, narrowing his eyes at her before he just smirked, chuckling while the older woman stood up and wiped her hands down on her jacket. She'd have to wash it sometime soon, especially with the ripe smell starting to become overwhelming once again. Following after him with Clementine by her side, the three entered the kitchen with Charlotte moving towards the back door.

Peeking through the window, she spotted Dylan sitting on a tree stump not far from the cabin, his back to her as he hunched over something. Worry built up in her stomach as it twisted painfully, her finding it hard to swallow and instead turned her head to Mason, watching as he threw the rubbish into a plastic bag before throwing the dishes into the sink. There was no running water to wash them with, so he'd have to wait until Christa and Omid came back with water. With Clementine mooching around the kitchen for something to do, Charlotte quietly asked Mason while gesturing to Dylan outside with her thumb. "What's going on with him, Mason? Everytime I try and talk to him, he just shuts me out."

"He won't talk to me either. After everything we tell each other, it's like that's what he wants to keep to himself." He explained, joining his sister's side as the both of them watched through the window. "He said nothing when we woke up this morning. Just ate his breakfast and went outside, brushed me off when I asked where he was going. He was… cold about it."

"He's having a hard time, but that doesn't mean we're having a picnic right now. We need him… and that means we have to help him out of this state he's got himself in." She sighed in frustration, grabbing the door handle as she turned around to Clementine, noticing that she was hovering around the backpack that had the presents in for Christmas. With a strict tone, she scolded her. "Darling, don't go near that. Stay outta my stuff, please?"

"Okay…" She mumbled, moving away from the bag with a sulk as Mason approached her.

Placing a hand on her shoulder, he offered the child a smile and suggested to her. "Hey, how about we go in the living room. I found a chess board that we can play. Come on, I can teach you."

Nodding with a smile, she turned and ran back into the living room with Mason following after her. However, he paused at the door for a moment and glanced over his shoulder, sharing a concerned frown with Charlotte as she just silently urged him to go with Clementine. Sighing, he did what she told him to do, closing the kitchen door behind him. Left alone, Charlotte inhaled deeply and prepared herself for the confrontation as she turned back towards the door, grabbing hold of the door knob as she glanced through the window at her brother. Opening it slowly, she slipped through and closed it behind her, keeping eye contact on Dylan's back as she walked through the grass towards him. Her footsteps were loud and clearly alerted the teenager to her presence, his head turning slightly as she decided to call out to him. "What you doing at here, bud?"

"Just needed some time alone." He replied harshly, glancing down at the object in his hand. Approaching him from behind, she peeked over his shoulder and saw that the object in his hand was his pistol, his finger tapping against the cool metal away from the trigger. Frowning deeply at him, she crossed her arms in annoyance as he mockingly joked. "Don't worry, I ain't gonna shoot myself in the head. I actually wanna live. I mean, ain't that why you shot that woman? To make sure I lived?"

"Are you blaming me here or yourself?" She shot back, glaring at him as Dylan turned his head to her, a scowl clear on his face that she matched in ferocity. She wouldn't back down to him. Slowly, he turned back around and just stared off into the trees, listening as Charlotte continued to try to get through to him. "What's going on, Dylan? You're turning on me, you're turning on your brother! Every time we try to help, you just shut us out and deal with it on your own!"

"Why don't you just fuck off?" He growled, jumping to his feet as he confronted his older sister. "Why do you keep getting on my fucking back?! Did you ever stop to think that maybe I just need time to figure out what the fuck we're doing here?! I mean, look around you!"

He paused, turning around and walking closer to the forest as he started to let his temper go. "Everything is  _fucked!_ We're in the middle of the forest, hundreds of miles from home, with people that I care about having to go out and risk their lives just so we can fucking eat! Our parents are  _dead_ , Elizabeth is  _dead,_ even Samantha, who I tried so hard to help, is  _dead,_ and you're not the only one dealing with this bullshit!"

Charlotte was taken aback. Standing there with a look of shock on her face, she was unable to say anything as Dylan threw his hands up in the air, clearly done with all the things that they had seen and done. Quickly, he turned his upper body towards her and snapped. "So maybe I am dealing with this the wrong way, but it's the only way I got! I… I don't know what  _to do_."

The last sentence was uttered in a more saddened tone, the anger and pain and confusion fading away in his face as he just looked away to the side. Charlotte stood there with widened eyes, unsure what exactly to say to what he just confessed to her. Quietly, she just muttered to him. "I didn't know you felt that way, bud."

"What happened back in town yesterday. It got me thinking… why do we bother with this?" He asked, gesturing towards the cabin with his empty hand. "What's the fucking point? We're just gonna march from here when it eventually goes to shit, like it always does. More people are gonna die, and then eventually we're the ones who die. I don't even know how or when, whether it's by a fucking walker or by another person."

Suddenly, he pulled the gun and pressed it against his head, stunning Charlotte as she quickly raised her hands, her voice shaking as she tried to calm him down. "Come on now, buddy. That's not the way."

"You know, when she had that gun against my head… that was the closest to death I ever felt. Even when we were walking through the snow and the cold for weeks, even when I crashed the car and you had to carry me away from the wreckage." He stopped in his rant, his voice quiet and eerily calm as Charlotte tried to approach him, desperate to get him away from the gun. "You don't blame me for that. Hell, neither does Mason, but I blame myself. All I ever do is fuck up and make all the wrong choices, and you have to come to save my ass. When will that end? When I'm fucking dead or get everyone killed?"

"Dylan, just give me the gun." Charlotte demanded, continuing to approach him as he made no effort to stop her. Standing there, his eyes moved as he thought about what he was doing, and slowly, he removed the gun from his head and passed it over to his sister, the older sibling snatching it from him before shoving it in her jacket pocket. Both stood there in silence, Dylan making no attempt to look her in the eyes, and so she took that opportunity to finally speak.

"We are gonna die one day. Everyone does, Dylan, but it's what we do while we're alive is all that matters. In there is a scared little girl who's lost everyone and a teenage boy who doesn't know what's going on with probably his only friend left." She explained, staring down at Dylan before quickly pulling him into a tight hug. Shoving her face into his bushy hair, she sniffed loudly as tears blurred her vision. "I know you miss everyone. I do, too. We owe it to them to keep each other safe and alive. That's all that matters. Be mad at me, blame me for everything, I don't care. All I want is to keep you and the others safe for as long as I can."

"I'm so sorry." Dylan sobbed, burying his face into her jacket as his hands gripped it tightly, keeping her close to him as they continued to embrace each other. Listening to his shaky breath, she turned her head and saw that the door was open, Mason standing there with Clementine by his side, the both of them watching the scene with saddened expressions on their face, before the child glanced up at her friend. Saying nothing, she watched as he just closed his eyes for a moment and then go back inside, guiding Clementine in as the latter glanced one more time before the door closed.

With her brother crying in her arms, she recalled over everything he said and felt that grief bubble up. She would try to keep them alive, protect them from the walkers and any other survivor that would want to harm the group, but she didn't know how to protect them from the dangers inside themselves.


	9. Merry Christmas

Over a week had passed since the incident with Dylan. The winter had died off somewhat over that time, the snow becoming more and more of a rare occurrence as the ground was exposed underneath what once was a blanket of white. The grass were only in patches, spread wide amongst the fields of brown mud that had been stepped and trodden on by the numerous feet that had walked in the forest before Charlotte and her group even came to the state. Some of the trees were still stripped of their leaves, their bare branches stretched outwards over the forest floor, creating stripes of shadows that darkened the ground. A walker hunched over something, tearing and chewing noises loud in the air as it continued to gorge itself on whatever it had found and killed.

Charlotte kept crouched in the bushes, watching the corpse as it paid no attention to her. A machete was gripped tightly in her hands, the blade shining in the sunlight that managed to get through the thick cover of branches and leaves of the pine trees. Slowly, she approached the walker, waiting until she was on the edge of the foliage that was hiding her before standing up, raising the machete over her head. The walker continued to pay no attention, more interested in the food that it had found rather than the machete that was forced into the top of its skull. Immediately releasing its catch, its hands fell to its side while Charlotte pulled the machete out roughly. The thud from its body collapsing to the ground was a dull sound, barely echoing before all fell silent again. The stench was almost overpowering, even through the bandana wrapped around her face, and trying not to breathe too deeply, she turned her attention to the food that the walker was munching on.

It was a rabbit. A crossbow bolt was sticking out of its side, stained a deep red from its blood, and Charlotte sighed in frustration, plucking the bolt from its corpse while staring at the gash from its throat. The flesh had been torn violently by the walker, teeth marks clear in the skin where the fur had gone missing. Shoving the bolt back in the pack strapped to her side, she turned to the walker and kicked it in the face, cursing in a venomous tone. "Fucking bastard. That was my fucking kill."

After venting some of her anger, she backed off a little bit, pulling the bandana down to rest around her neck while she took in a deep breath of fresh air. She had been out for hours, tracking down animals so that they could have something for dinner. At best, she had found some squirrels and a weasel. From behind her, she heard rustling from within the bushes, the grown woman turning on her heel just in time to see Clementine stumbling out of the foliage. Small backpack over her shoulder, she lifted her baseball cap further back on her head as she stared up at Charlotte. "Did you find the rabbit?"

"Yeah…" she sighed, gesturing to the chewed on rabbit left on the ground. "But the walker got to it first."

Disappointment was clear on Clem's face, the little girl moving closer to the walker and staring at the large gash in its head with disgust. With a metallic sound, Charlotte shoved her machete back into the sheaf that she had fastened to her waist, leaving a hand resting on the hilt as she looked over Clementine with a neutral expression. Over the week, they had continued hitting stores in the towns just outside the forest, and they had hit lucky with a hiking store further within Albemarle. With new hiking boots and a thick bubble coat over her sweater and thin shirt, she watched as Clementine shoved her free hand in her pocket and turned back to her companion. "Can't we just cut around it?"

"That's not something I wanna risk, Clem. You know the rules. Something's bit, it gets thrown out." She explained, passing over the rabbit as she affectionately rubbed the top of Clementine's head. A smile on her face, she gestured with a flick of her head when the child looked up at her in annoyance. "Come on. We still got a few more hours of sunlight."

Lifting her backpack further up her shoulder, she followed after Charlotte as the two moved through the foliage. Pushing a branch out of the way, the older of the two made the way through the vegetation easier for the child accompanying her, trodding down the branches and leaves while Clementine followed closely behind her. Cautiously, she led Clem out of the bushes and onto an abandoned path, pausing in her walk to stare up at a rusted sign that had black silhouettes of animals on them. In large yellow letters underneath read 'Beware of your surroundings'. Glancing around, she noticed Clementine coming up to her side and staring at the sign, asking in a curious voice. "Do you think we'll find any of them out here?"

"That's if the walkers haven't already driven them out." She replied quietly, turning her head to the distant sound of rustling as she rested a hand on Clementine's back, guiding her closer to the grown up's side as she muttered. "Keep close."

They carried on down the path. Dirt and leaves crunching under their shoes, Charlotte readjusted the strap of her crossbow on her shoulder, feeling it dig uncomfortably into her flesh even underneath her jacket. The sun was shining just off centre in the sky, some clouds starting to form as rain threatened to come soon. From beside her, Charlotte listened as Clementine asked softly. "When can we go home? My feet are starting to hurt."

"Don't worry, darling. We just keep looking for a little while longer and then I'll call it quits for today." She consoled, flashing a smile down at the other survivor. Clementine met her gaze, and slowly, she returned the smile with a soft one of her own, before a sound just off to their right caused them to tense up immediately. Charlotte's hand instinctively shot in front of Clem, pushing her further behind the adult while the latter pulled her pistol out, keeping it close as she stared at the unknown danger with widened eyes. Pulling the crossbow off her shoulder, she stumbled about trying to grab a bolt from the pack, managing to grab one and shove it in the crossbow before the source of the noise came out of the bushes.

Coming onto the path, Charlotte kneeled down with Clementine copying her actions, the both of them staring at what was revealed to be a young buck that wandered into the open. Up the path from them, at least fifty yards, the animal had not noticed them yet and moved on to graze on ferns that were crossing on the sides of the path. Crossbow ready, she aimed down the sights, centering them on the buck as she muttered. "Come on, now…"

Her feet moved up the path slowly. Small, careful steps being taken in care not to step on any fallen leaves or anything that would give her position away. The wind blew in her face, and she tried to remember what her father taught her when he took a younger Charlotte hunting with him. _Always stay downwind of the target._ She heard that gruff voice echo in the back of her mind. Breathing steadily, she watched as the buck paused, its head still low as it looked around, missing the survivors as they shuffled closer behind the bushes that grew over the path. With nothing seemingly dangerous around, it

Suddenly, the buck stopped, lifting its head up high as it looked around, ears moving around while it tried to figure out what it had heard. Holding her breath, Charlotte's finger neared the trigger, trying to keep the crossbow steady before pulling the trigger. The bolt made no sound as it flew through the air, and the buck could barely react before it penetrated through its side, letting out a horse cry before collapsing to the ground with a loud thud. Lowering the crossbow, she heard Clementine happily point out. "You got it!"

"Looks like we're having venison tonight." She replied, smirking down at Clementine before the two snuck out of their hiding place. Approaching the buck, she kneeled down beside it and stared at the crossbow bolt lodged deep into its side, just behind its front leg. Slowly, she grabbed the shaft and pulled forcefully, managing to free her bolt from its flesh and cause the blood to drip out of the wound. Clementine watched from behind her, hands folded in front of her with the pistol pointing downwards, her finger away from the trigger as her face grimaced at the sight of the flesh moving with the bolt being removed.

Looking over her catch, Charlotte twirled the bolt between her fingers before finally putting it back in the pack with the others. Hands gripped the small buck, testing its weight as she nodded slowly, breathing deeply as she prepared herself to pick the catch up. A low grunt came through her throat, arms straining and legs pushing her off the ground as she hauled the dead prey onto her shoulders, the head lolling against her arm while her head rested against the beast's stomach. Clementine watched with surprise, her voice soft and worried as she asked the grown up. "Isn't it heavy?"

"A lil. It's only a juvenile, I think." She brushed off, flashing a weak smile before grimacing under the deer's weight. She regretted her choices. Still, she walked as fast as she could down the path, trying to recall the way back to the cabin. Clementine's little legs had to work hard to keep up with the other's long strides, her footsteps making small crunching noises against the dirt and gravel of the path. Both of them walking in silence, Charlotte took a sneak peek at the child accompanying her on the trip, looking down at the baseball cap that covered her face from view. The fabric was dirty and worn, the once white now a dull grey with a small blood stain in the corner, long dried.

Just as Clementine looked up at Charlotte, the latter turned away and just stared at the trees that they slowly passed by. Even after spending a week with the child and her guardians, she hadn't managed to break that uncomfortable silence that so often filled their conversations. Clementine was an enigma, that much was sure, and she found herself wanting to break down those walls that the child built to protect herself, bring her out with the others to see the child she once was. No words were uttered between them, and Clementine just shrugged her shoulders softly and kept watch on the path ahead. Her hands were shoved in her pockets, trying to keep warm in the dropping temperatures, and her backpack moved about on her back with every step she took. Head held high, her amber eyes shone in the low sunlight and her lips pulled into a thin line, the child finally looking back at Charlotte and broke the silence between them.

"When Christa has this baby… do you think it'll be a boy or a girl?" She asked, maintaining eye contact with the other survivor as she waited for her answer.

Lifting the deer more onto her shoulders to stop it from slipping down, Charlotte pursed her lips together in thought and looked off into the distance. Hands dug into the short pelt of her kill, a thankful thought running through her mind as she noticed that the antlers had long been shedded, no risk to poking her eyes out or hitting her in the face with every step she took. Finally, after some thought given to it, she glanced down at Clementine and gave her answer with a genuine smile. "I reckon it'll be a lil' boy."

"How do you know? It might be a girl." She shot back, earning a chuckle from Charlotte that sparked a confused look to form on her youthful face. "What's so funny?"

"It's just…" Charlotte paused, her chuckling ceasing to a cold silence as her smile faltered somewhat. "I remember the same conversation that my parents had with me and my sister. Mama was expecting a kid, and my dad sat us down and asked us 'Well, do youse two want a lil' sister or a lil' brother?'"

Her gruff imitation of her father's deep and gravelly voice caused Clementine to giggle. She smirked in response, and carried on with the story. "Elizabeth wanted a lil' brother. Someone she could play in the dirt with and teach how to fix the truck that we had. She got me first round, and I'm pretty sure she didn't want any more girly girls after that."

"And you? What did you want?" Clementine continued to question, curiosity easy to see in her wide childlike eyes.

With a silent look of surprise, Charlotte raised an eyebrow as she recalled the conversation years ago. She was only young, nearing her tenth birthday, while Elizabeth had just turned thirteen and ready to have more responsibility around the farm. With a mutter, she confessed to the child beside her. "Neither. I didn't want another sibling, at least I didn't really care anyway. Even when Dylan and Mason were born… I wasn't the sister I shoulda been."

"What'd you mean?" Clementine wondered, slowing her walking pace as Charlotte slowed down too.

Pausing in her steps, she stood there silently as Clementine stopped a few steps ahead of her, staring back with a worried gaze clear on her face. With a quiet voice, Charlotte explained to the younger survivor, her face fallen in sadness and guilt as she recalled her behaviour all those years ago. "I pretended that they didn't even exist. When Mama was so tired that she fell asleep where she stood, I didn't bother picking the twins up and comforting them. I did fuck all for them, and Elizabeth did everything… I'm not proud of that."

Clementine lowered her gaze to the ground, the brim of her baseball cap covering her eyes for a moment as she thought about something. Charlotte meanwhile kept walking, wanting to put the past behind her and just focus on the present. They had to get the food back to the group, and hope that the others had found something while out on their scavenging hunt. She recalled that morning, having to leave Dylan behind to watch over Christa and the cabin while she and Clementine went out hunting. Omid and Mason had already left, going to the river to see if they had caught anything and gather more fire wood for the stove. From beside her, she listened as Clementine asked in a hesitant tone. "Elizabeth was your sister, wasn't she?"

"Yeah, she was." Charlotte responded, her face crestfallen at the reminder of her deceased family.

Noticing the change of expression, Clementine silently clambered around and tried to think of something, something that would change the obviously painful subject, and finally she recalled with a small smile on her face. "My babysitter, Sandra, and I would play this game where we pretended to be secret sisters."

"That's sounds fun." The grown woman replied, smiling down at Clementine, who returned the smile with her own bright grin, before the two of them continued to look ahead, down the worn and empty path that led them further into the forest.

"I know you miss your family." The little girl suddenly piped up, her smile fading as she confessed. "I miss my parents… but we got each other, right? Lee once told me that as long as we got people we care about, we'll be okay."

"He sounds like he was a good man." Charlotte muttered, earning a saddened look from Clementine as the latter nodded slowly.

"Yeah." She started, looking away from her friend. "He was."

The conversation died there. Nothing but the crunching of gravel and dirt under their shoes, and the soft breeze blowing through the trees, could be heard in the silence. Yet, Charlotte was constantly on edge, ears burning as she kept an ear out for any groans or growls that would give away any walkers nearby. At least the dead made a noise. Out in the forest, with foliage and and hidden places all over, any survivor could sneak up on them and rob the two blind, especially if they were just as starving as they were. Glancing around, she stared through the tree trunks into the distance. The exhaustion and hunger pushed her eyes to see silhouettes in the distance, standing there staring back at them, and yet when she shook her head and opened her eyes again, the figures were nowhere to be seen. Frowning deeply, she just focused on getting to the cabin as fast as they could, unable to shake the feeling that they were being watched off.

Clementine tried to keep up with the taller woman, looking around as she too looked unnerved by the forest around them. Just as Charlotte was about to comfort her, a loud cawing noise came from the bushes next to them, both survivors jumping in fright as crows flew out of their shelter, taking to the skies as they stood there. Breathing heavily, she calmed her frayed nerves down, glancing down at Clementine and muttering calmly. "It's alright. Nothing out here besides the birds."

"I dunno. I don't like it out here. It's creepy." She replied with a frown. Charlotte had to agree with her on that, sharing the dislike of the forest with the little girl. With looming trees blocking out some of the sunlight, casting the ground in shadows, and that light slowly fading with dusk coming soon, she did not want to be stuck out there in the dark and cold. When they moved to keep walking, the bushes rustled once more and the two froze in place. A small gasp of fear came from Clementine before she managed to pull her pistol out, aiming it at the bushes and called out. "Come on out. We're armed."

Charlotte watched closely as the source of the rustling came out of the bushes, and when she realised what it was, her face portrayed both confusion and relief. Skinny and clearly starving, it was a dog that had scared them. Upon seeing the curious animal, Clementine lowered her gun and stared in awe. "Look, Charlotte! A dog!"

"Don't go near it, Clem." She warned, staring at the dog while Clementine stopped mid-step, confusingly watching her friend as the latter carried on to explain. "We don't know if he's feral. Poor guy might have gone months without seeing another person."

"He's so skinny. He must be really hungry." The child pointed out, putting her gun back in her pocket as she held out her hand. The dog stared at it, panting slightly before approaching slowly, sniffing the small hand held in front of it before turning away, clearly not interested unless there's food to be given. Returning her hand back to her side, she looked back up at Charlotte and piped up. "He doesn't seem mean. He might just want some food."

Standing there, Charlotte thought about it for a few moments, before sighing to herself and throwing the deer to the ground. The dog jumped back at the sound of the heavy thud, watching the humans while she turned to her companion, gesturing to the backpack that Clementine had slung over her shoulder. "Give it here."

Shrugging it off, she passed it to Charlotte and stood there while the latter zipped it open. Trying to rummage through the animals that they caught, she pulled out a squirrel, staring at its unblinking eye with a disgusted expression, before turning her attention back to the dog. Its eyes trained on the squirrel, she tossed it to the starving creature with a soft mumble. "Here you go."

The dog wasted no time in tearing into the squirrel, snatching it up from the spot where it fell on the ground and started snacking on its flesh. Clementine grimaced at the sight of the flesh being torn, turning away as Charlotte carried on packing everything back up. Zipping the bag closed, she gave it back to its rightful owner and picked the deer up, sparing a few seconds watching the dog before saying goodbye to it. "Well, lil guy, we best be off. Good luck out there."

Clementine seemed saddened to leave the dog there, but she followed after Charlotte as the adult walked past, leaving the dog to carry on with its meal. With it behind them, Charlotte just kept looking ahead as Clementine reached her side, peeking over her shoulder as she tried to hint her wants to the other survivor. "Not much food out here for him. Maybe we could take him with us?"

"I'm sorry, Clem, but we can't. Besides the fact that we have to find food to feed him too, we can't risk letting a dog in the house that we don't know. What if he attacked the others, or you?" She explained, causing Clementine to look down at her feet, her hand gripping the fabric of her coat on her lower arm. Her frown turning into a saddened one, she understood the compassion Clementine felt for the animal, but her survival instinct pushed that same compassion away, knowing the dangers of letting a wild animal into their home far outweighed the positives. However, when she heard the pitter patter of feet behind them, she paused and turned her upper body around, trying to keep the deer from slipping off her shoulders as she realised that the dog was actually following them.

With the remains of the squirrel in its mouth, it sat down when the humans noticed its presence and dropped the carcass. Sharing a look with Clementine, the young pleading eyes causing her to sigh in frustration before she conceded. "Alright, alright. The lil' guy can come with us."

"He has a name." The child replied happily, pointing at the collar that was around the dog's neck. Eyebrow raised in suspicion, she stood there as Clementine approached the dog, tensed and ready to spring if the animal tried to do anything. Gently, she checked the tag dangling under the dog's chin and slowly read out. "Sam… His name's Sam."

"Sam. He doesn't behave like a feral dog. Where's your family, boy?" Charlotte wondered, watching as Clementine frowned deeply at the question. Sam, obviously, didn't respond to the question, but just sat there with a small whine coming up from his throat. It was pretty obvious what happened to his family. He was there, they weren't, and so Charlotte replied softly. "Don't worry, Sam. We'll be your family, now."

Clementine's face lit up at that. The sight of such a happy expression brought a smile to Charlotte's face, but they'd have to keep moving if they wanted to get home before it got too dark. With a flick of her head, she started walking, her voice calm yet stern as she called out. "Come on, Sam."

With the call of his name, Sam started following after the grown up. Clementine kept to his side, walking at his pace as the duo followed after Charlotte, who was watching the path spirling through the forest for as far as her eyes could see. She was ready to call it a night, feeling the temperature drop and her exposed skin starting to form goosebumps, her teeth clenching together to stop them chattering. While she walked in silence, she listened as Clementine kept muttering to the dog. "You'll like it at the cabin. It's warm and there's plenty of food for you, and you'll have a family again."

"You ever had a dog before, Clem?" Charlotte asked, keeping her eyes straight ahead as the weight of the deer on her shoulders weighed her down somewhat.

After a short pause, she thought about just letting the subject go, but heard the child explain in a quiet tone. "No. My mom didn't like dogs, but I had a hamster and a goldfish. He was called Peanut."

"The hamster or the goldfish?" She elaborated, earning a small giggle from Clementine.

"The goldfish. My hamster was called Cookies."

"Oh…" Charlotte trailed off, her eyebrows furrowing as she asked in confusion. "Why did you call him Cookies?"

"Because one time, he got out of his cage and ate a whole box of cookies. We found him in the cupboard the next morning." A snort came from Charlotte at the explanation, before she quickly tried to hide her laughter from the other survivor. The story was cute, and despite her efforts to hide her laughter, it just made Clementine smile at seeing Charlotte let loose for once. Calming herself down, she noticed the path veering off, growing smaller as they followed after it. It wouldn't be long before they reached the cabin.

"Did you have a dog, Charlotte?" Clementine suddenly asked.

With a shake of her head, she responded with a quick. "No. Well, we did have a dog, but I didn't see her as mine. She was a sheep dog we used to herd the flock of sheep we had. Really, she was just an animal to me, more like my horses rather than an actual pet."

"That sounds nice. I wish I coulda seen the farm." The little girl muttered, before adding in a more hopeful tone. "You said that we could go back one day?"

The hope clear in her words caused Charlotte to frown, keeping her face hidden behind the dead deer as to not worry the child. After a few moments of silence, nothing but the wind and Sam's panting filling in the lack of conversation between them, she realised that Clementine was waiting for an answer, and decided to keep that hope alive as she agreed, trying to keep her lie as believable as possible. "Yeah. I don't know when, but one day we'll see the farm again."

"I hope it's soon." Clementine fell silent after that. Both of them walking through the darkening forest, Charlotte noticed the trees moving away as a clearing was just ahead, the familiar building standing tall amongst the trees, the smoke billowing out of the chimney as the fire was likely turned on. The thought of sitting in front of the fire spurred Charlotte to keep walking, basically jogging to the cabin with Clementine trying to keep up with her, Sam right by her side as they moved through the opening towards the front porch.

Slowing down to a stop, she stared up at the front door, noticing a dark figure through the window and raised an eyebrow. Slowly, the door opened and Dylan was revealed to have been standing behind it, staring down at the two before he practically bolted down the steps to them. Finally dropping her kill to the ground, she stood there as he stared at the deer with surprise. "Woah, I was only hoping for a few squirrels at best."

"That ain't the only thing we brought back." She revealed, stepping aside so that Dylan could see Sam. Sitting there, the dog panted while his tail wagged from side to side, watching the teenager with beady black eyes while the eldest of the trio added. "Say hi to Sam."

"Holy shit. What's a dog doing all the way out here?" He swore, earning a frown from Clementine as she quickly muttered. "Sorry."

"We found him coming back here. His family… ain't around anymore." Her words trailed off as she crossed her arms, staring down at Sam as the animal had no idea what they were talking about. Dylan gave the poor dog a sympathetic look, before reaching out to pet him on the head. After a few pats, Sam gave off a warning growl and Dylan immediately retracted his hand, glaring at the dog while he muttered to his sister.

"He ain't very friendly." He pointed out, and after that little growl, Charlotte had to agree with him. Even though she accepted Sam into the group, she still didn't feel alright with just letting him into the house, especially after he just growled at Dylan. Slowly, she turned her sights towards the old shed, staring at it silently while Dylan followed her gaze, trying to figure out what it meant as he slowly asked. "You gonna put him in the shed?"

"Just until he settles into the group. I don't want him in the house while he's still growling. It won't take much for him to bite one of us." She explained, turning back to Dylan and Clementine as she gestured to the house. "Go on inside. Dylan, bring me some blankets so I can at least make him a bed."

"Will do. Come on, Clem." He ordered, making his way back up the steps with Clementine following after him. She paused, quickly turning to Charlotte as she opened up her backpack, taking out the squirrel and weasel that they managed to fit in there and chucked them on top of the buck, before leaving to go inside the cabin without saying another word. Watching them go, Charlotte then turned her attention to skinning their kills for the day. There was more than enough meat to feed the group, especially with the young buck, and she wondered where they'd store the excess meat until tomorrow. With knife in hand, she tried to figure out how to properly skin the animal, trying to remember what her father taught her, but it was many years ago.

On cue, Dylan reappeared with worn blankets in his arms, his footsteps creaking on the stairs behind her as he approached her while talking. "I found some old blankets in one of the closet upstairs... What are you doing?"

"Erm, skinning the animal?" She retorted, pointing beside her with the knife as she then ordered him. "Just plop them down there. I'll sort out the dog's bed after I skin these kills."

Doing as he was told, he threw the blankets down on the ground beside her, and watched silently as the elder sibling tried to skin the buck. With eyes on her back, she suddenly found herself nervous, unsure in what she was doing, and when she tried to cut into the deer, Dylan finally piped up while moving to her side. "I'll skin them. You can go and sort the shed out."

"Since when do you know this stuff?" She shot back, earning a smirk from her brother as she recalled. "Oh yeah… Dad."

"I actually paid attention to what he taught me. Go on." He instructed, taking the knife from Charlotte's larger hands and started cutting away the pelt. Kneeling there with a stunned expression, she just shrugged and left him be, plucking the blankets up from the ground beside her and standing up slowly. Stretching out her sore arms, she turned to see Sam lying down where he was once sitting, watching Dylan working away on the buck with hungry eyes.

With a strong tone, she called out to the dog. "Sam, come!"

His head turned to look at her, before he ignored her orders and carried on watching Dylan cutting away at the skin. Clearly, he was waiting to share some of that meat, still hungry even after devouring that squirrel that he was given beforehand. Still, Charlotte frowned deeply, hating that she was being ignored by the animal, and with a sterner tone, she called out to him again. "Sam. _Come here._ "

With her staring straight at him, he finally listened to her orders and slowly rose to his feet, following after the tall woman as she walked towards the shed. The sun was peeking behind the trees, the skies an array of beautiful colours, and it would soon be nightfall. So, with the doors slowly opening, the creaking loud in the air, she moved in with the blankets slung over her shoulder. Sam seemed apprehensive, sitting by the door while his new owner went about making the shed more comfortable for him. Finding an empty box, she lined it with blankets and made sure it was comfortable enough for the dog to sleep in, though it would surely be cold in the shed tonight. With the bed done, she admired her work while comforting the dog. "Don't worry, Sam. I'll get to making you a nice home tomorrow, and if you behave, we can let you into the cabin. Think of this as a…. Probation period."

He let out a short bark at that. Rubbing the back of her neck, she sighed in agreement. "Yeah, I wouldn't wanna sleep in here if I were you either. But, we gotta do things that we don't wanna do, yeah?"

Another bark at her question. Humming in response, she took another glance around the shed. There was a small hole in the corner, somewhat large enough for Sam to escape if he really wanted to, and so she plucked the hammer resting on the tools rack on the wall and looked around for supplies to fix it. Looking around, she found some chains and a large hooking on one of the shelves, picking them up and weighing them in her hands as she muttered. "Whoever owned this cabin before was sure into hunting. All this tack and hunting gear, thank God we found this place before anyone else."

"What you got there?" Dylan suddenly asked, appearing at the shed door with his eyes trained on the chains in Charlotte's hands. "You got some meat chains?"

Startled by his appearance, she jumped and turned her upper body, glaring at Dylan as she scolded him. "Jesus fucking H. Christ, Dylan, you can't go about scaring people like that!"

"Look, I just need the chains." He pointed out, crossing his arms as his sister shot him a confused look. Slowly, he pointed back to the kills he left with his thumb, explaining in a tired tone. "I need to hoist the buck up if I wanna skin it. Problem is, the fucker's real heavy. I need your help hoisting him up."

"You help me with fixing up this shed tomorrow, and you got yourself a deal." She offered, gesturing to the hole in the wall with the hammer. He stood there, staring at the hole with a neutral expression before moving his gaze back to Charlotte. Slowly, he nodded and offered his hand out, waiting as Charlotte placed the hammer on the table and grabbed his hand, shaking it to signal their offer being accepted before he retracted it. Turning around, he walked back towards the deer, waiting for Charlotte to follow after him. From the corner of her eye, she saw Sam slinking past her and curling around in his new bed, clearly pleased with having somewhere warm and dry to sleep the night. Quietly, she muttered to him while exiting the shed. "We'll keep you safe, lil' guy."

Leaving the shed doors open, she walked back down the path briskly, watching Dylan kneeling beside the buck as her grip tightened on the chains she held in her hand. The hook swung lightly with each step she took, the sharp edge poking the side of her thigh soft enough that it didn't pierce through her clothes and skin. Still, she didn't like the thought of being stabbed by the thing. Reaching her brother's side, she listened as he explained, cutting a deep hole in the deer's side. "I'll just cut a hole here, and we can hang up the deer over on that tree there. It'll make it easier for me to skin it."

Removing the knife, he grabbed the upper part of the buck and lifted, straining somewhat as he called out for Charlotte's help. "I could really need a hand here."

Slinging the hook over her shoulder, she grabbed the lower end of the buck and picked it up, faring better than Dylan was. Following after him as they shuffled towards a nearby tree, she decided to try and strike up a conversation with her brother. "So, how was it back here?"

"Quiet." He replied, only saying that as he silently let his part of the buck go and reached out for the chains, waiting patiently as Charlotte dropped her half of the buck and lifted the chains off her shoulder. Passing them to him, she just watched as he fed the hook through the hole in their catch, before tossing the chain over a thick branch of the tree, keeping it close to the trunk to prevent snapping. Without a word, he passed the chain back to his sister and gave the order. "Pull."

Working together, they pulled the chain more and more, Charlotte watching as the deer was starting to be pulled off the ground. With Dylan helping her this time, she found it easier to handle the weight of the dead animal than she did on her own walking back to the cabin, finding that the deer was hanging in the air after just a few tugs on the chain. While Dylan went about securing the chain, she decided to try again with the conversation. "There any problems while we were gone?"

"No. Christa had a few kicks with the baby, but she was fine after a while. No walkers were around either." He explained, leaving the chain alone after he managed to secure it. Knife in hand, he went about skinning the animal again as he muttered. "I get that you're just checking up on me, but I'm fine. I don't need someone constantly on my back."

"Did you suddenly forget what happened last week?" Charlotte pointed out, trying to keep a calming tone as Dylan paused. With the knife still in the deer, he stared at it while she continued trying to converse with him. "Buddy… You tried to _kill yourself._ Can you really blame me for at least being worried for you?"

"But I didn't. I'm fine now." He retorted, clearly growing annoyed with the topic they were discussing. Before she could even get another word in, he brushed off her worried attempts and just carried on with the task at hand. "I need to concentrate. Go and fix the hole in the shed, we don't want Sam getting out and running off."

With a sigh, she decided to leave the conversation there and left Dylan to his work, making her way back to the shed. With the light growing dimmer, she looked up at the skies, watching the once vast array of colouring dulling into the same dark navy blue as the moon faintly shone in the distance. She'd have to fix the hole and then go inside for the night, it was too dangerous to be wandering around when it got dark. With the shed doors still open, she gave a glance to Sam, who was fast asleep in his bed, and went about fixing the hole in the wall. With a plank of wood taken from the barrel near the back of the shed, she took some of the nails left in a box on the table and the hammer that she left, before making her way to the hole in the far corner of the shed. Kneeling down, she pressed the plank of wood against the hole, finding that it covered more than just the hole, and started hammering the nails into the wood.

The noise woke Sam up, the dog watching Charlotte work away from his bed as he yawned, a small whine coming from him before he closed his mouth again. Ignoring him for a second, she hammered in the last nail, pulling the board to make sure that i couldn't come loose by Sam or the harsh winds that often plagued this forest. Hopefully, it would stop most of the cold from getting in the shed that night. Done with her job, she decided to sit there for a few minutes, just until Dylan was done skinning the deer and they could go inside. With her knees pulled up and her hands resting on top of them, she stared straight ahead, watching Sam staring at her from the corner of her eye. It seemed her unwillingness to even look him in the eyes peaked his interest, the skinny animal standing up from his bed and slowly moving towards her, almost unsure on whether it should or not.

Eventually, she felt the wet nose poking her hand, hot air blowing over her exposed skin as he sniffed her. When she made no attempt to move, he started to sniff her jacket before backing off slightly, repulsed by the stench of walker blood on her. She knew then that she'd have to clean her clothes again. Slowly, she turned her head to look out of the shed, watching Dylan in the distance as she sighed again, muttering to Sam in a calming tone. "I dunno what I'm gonna do with him, Sam. After all that shit last week, how can I trust him not to do something like that again?"

He sat down next to her, panting away as she just looked at him, humming under her breath as she continued. "I've been trying so hard to keep everyone alive, but… how can I do that when he doesn't want to survive? Do I just let him go? Is that really the kindest thing I can do for my lil' brother?"

No response came from the dog. No bark or whine, rather he just sat there and watched her closely. She wasn't sure if he was actually listening to her or if he was just thinking about when his next meal would be. Her head moved backwards, leaning against the rotting wood as she finally confessed. "I don't know what to do anymore."

Suddenly, Sam moved closer to her, nudging her hand with his nose as she just watched in confusion. With some violent jerks of his head, he managed to get the hand up his face and onto his head, leaving it there as he panted slowly. With an eyebrow raised, she gently rubbed her fingers through his dirty fur, cautious in case he took offense to that like he did with Dylan beforehand. However, Sam made no attempt to growl at her or bite the hand that was stroking him, rather enjoying the attention with squinted eyes and his tail gently wagging from side to side. While she gave him the attention he wanted, she whispered to him. "You ain't feral, are you? You're just scared… I get that way sometimes too."

Sam licked his lips at that, his long tongue then hanging out of his mouth again before they heard something break, like a twig that was stepped on. With his mouth clamping shut, he sprinted out of the shed and started barking, Charlotte barely able to react as she clamboured to her feet, pulling her crossbow off her back while following after her companion. The barks echoed in the air, clearly going to attract walkers if she didn't get rid of whatever it was that spooked the dog. As she stumbled around the corner, she realised that it was no other than Omid and Mason, standing there while Sam continued to bark at them. Quickly, she moved between them and Sam, trying to calm the dog down with soft words. "Easy there, boy. They're friends. They're friendly."

"Yeah, erm… nice dog. Quick question, Charlie, and please tell me if it's just the exhaustion playing on my mind again, but when did we get a dog?" Omid asked, staring down at the growling animal as he quickly added. "He seems a bit pissed."

"Clem and I came across him while we were out hunting. He's not completely feral. I think he's just a bit scared." She explained, nervous as Sam, realising that the threat wasn't actually a threat, stopped barking and rather just watched from his spot, sitting down with his eyes staring straight at the newcomers. Mason smiled at the thought of having a dog again, though he was too afraid to approach him after the barking and snapping.

"He looks really skinny. You didn't find anyone out there who he'd belong to?" Omid carried on asking, looking over the visible bones sticking out from underneath Sam's sandy brown fur, a long black stripe running down his spine. With a saddened frown, she shook her head in response, causing Omid's face to fall slightly as he tried to add in an optimistic tone. "Hey, at least he's got us now, huh? He got a name?"

With Sam by her side, she watched as he started to scratch behind his ear with his hind leg, his body contorted in weird positions to get the itch that was bothering him. "Sam."

"He's cute. Where's he gonna sleep?" Mason piped up, staring at Charlotte with big, bright eyes. With a flick of her head towards the shed, the other two survivors looked over to it, with Mason frowning somewhat at the state of Sam's new home. "Really? It's a bit cold in there."

"It's only temporarily, but he's still a bit aggressive to people. I don't want him in the cabin where he could bite someone. If he behaves, he'll eventually be allowed inside." She explained, earning an understanding nod from her younger brother. With a smile, she ruffled the top of his head and added. "He'll be fine."

"Well, I guess you're prepared for the bad news, then." Omid interjected, lifting the fish box he was carrying when Charlotte turned her attention to him. Staring down at it, she listened as he sighed in disappointment. "Went to the river today. No fish."

"Shit… Nothing?" She asked, earning a shake of the head from both of them. Crossing her arms, she thought for a moment before hearing Dylan grunt in the distance, turning her head to see him having already skinned the animal, the pelt hung up on one of the lower hanging branches while he had multiple strips of meat on his jacket, having left it on the ground to stop it from getting dirty. "At least Clem and I were more successful. We found a young buck in the forest. He wasn't very big, but it should be enough meat to last us a few days if we're careful."

"We can head out to the fish traps tomorrow, see if we have any luck then." Omid offered, moving past Charlotte and that as he quickly added. "I'm gonna go and check up on Christa and Clementine. I wouldn't stay out here past nightfall."

Chuckling softly, she waited until Omid reached the stairs to the front porch before turning to Mason. Standing there, she noticed him staring straight at Dylan, watching his twin brother with worried eyes before he asked softly. "How's he been?"

"He doesn't wanna talk about last week. He says he's fine now, that I should stop babysitting him, but I dunno… We just have to help him through whatever's going on in that head of his." She confessed, though tried to keep things positive when she noticed Mason's face dropping. With a short nod, she ruffled his hair once again and instructed him. "Now, do me a favour and go and grab a bowl from inside for me. I'll give Sam his dinner and then settle him down for the night."

"Alright, Charlie." He obeyed, jogging towards the front door and leaving his sister to her own devices. With the shed patched up as best as she could for the night, she decided to take a rest and moved towards the steps of the cabin. Sam followed after her, sitting down next to her as she sat down on the second step, her legs bent and her arms resting on her thighs. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, she exhaled, watching her warm breath mist up in front of her face. Her hand moved slowly to Sam's head, rubbing the top of his head gently, massaging between the ears.

He enjoyed that contact, his pointed up early moving slightly as he constantly listened out for anything that could be dangerous, still unsure whether the cabin was safe or not. She didn't blame him. Living out in the forest alone, starving and cold, she was surprised that he hadn't gone completely feral. His family must have been with him up until recently, given his friendly nature. While she thought about where they were, and if they missed their dog, or if they even still alive, she heard footsteps behind her. Turning her head slightly, she heard Mason's timid voice as he called out. "I found a food bowl in the cupboard. I guess the previous owners liked animals that they didn't wanna eat."

A shiny bowl was moved into her view. Staring down at it, she plucked it from Mason's hand and looked at her reflection in the mirror, noticing the blue eyes staring back at her. With something for Sam's dinner, she turned her upper body and smiled up at her brother. "Thanks, bud. Now go on inside, we should have dinner ready as soon as Dylan finishes up that carcass."

"Sure." He replied, walking back up the steps and into the cabin. With him gone, she stood up and walked over to Dylan and the deer carcass, watching as he finished up carving out all the meat that they could get from the kill, and glanced down at the organs and innards of the deer left in a pile. Grimacing at the sight, she noticed Sam having followed her when he noticed the food bowl, eyeing up the meat with a hunger in his eyes.

While she kept an eye on him, she heard Dylan sternly pipe up. "You want food for the dog, you can use the guts and organs I pulled out. The meat goes to us."

"You think he'll eat that? It looks… gross." She muttered, eyeing up the discarded bits and pieces with a scrunched up nose. Dylan shook his head, not even bothering to give her an answer as he pulled out his knife, moving towards the chain to let the bones and unwanted body parts fall to the ground. With an annoyed frown, she followed after him, reaching the knife first as she just stared down at Dylan. He returned the look with an angered glare, doing nothing as she pulled out the knife to use to cut up the organs for Sam.

As she walked away from him, she heard the teenager call after her in an annoyed tone. "You couldn't have used your machete for that?"

She wouldn't give him a response, knowing that he was in the mood where he was just looking for a fight. If she left him alone to calm down, she'd get a better chance to talk civilly later, or she at least hoped so. Anything could set him off nowadays. Still, she left him to get rid of the carcass in case the smell attracted walkers, and turned her attention to cutting up the organs she needed. There was more than enough to fill Sam's food bowl, and she felt bad for wasting the rest that she had left. With a squirrel and a weasel left to skin, she noticed Dylan coming back from the forest with the meat chain slung over his shoulder, his tank top clear to see without his thick winter jacket over him. He showed no discomfort with the cold, however, and just paused when he saw the leftovers Charlotte left from cutting up.

Taking the chain off his shoulder, he passed it back to her and muttered. "I noticed a tarp in the shed on one of the high up shelves. If you grab that for me, I can hang the organs up so that Sam has something for breakfast tomorrow."

"Alright, I'll get right on that." She agreed, taking the chains from him and standing up, both the chains and the dog bowl in hand. Sam's interest peaked at the sight of the food, the animal jumping around and whining as she started walking towards the shed, trotting after her and the food she had in her hand. Once they reached the shed, she left the chains hanging on one of the hooks on the tools bracket and set the bowl down on the ground. As soon as the metal bowl touched the floor, Sam shoved past her and started wolfing the food down, surprising Charlotte as she watched with concern. "Woah, you're really hungry."

While he carried on eating, she went about finding the tarp that Dylan mentioned. Looking around, she spotted a folded up sheet on the highest shelf in the shed, able to reach it easily due to her height. With it in her hands, she gave another glance at Sam before deciding to leave him alone, eager to get the tarp back to Dylan. So, she left the shed with the doors open, and jogged lightly back to her brother, who was leaning against the tree that he previously had the deer strung up on. When he noticed her approaching with the tarp he wanted, he smiled slightly and pushed himself off the bark, standing there as the older sibling closed the distance between them. Breathing heavier than usual, she passed him the sheet with a quick. "Here. This what you were talkin' about?"

"Perfect. Thanks." He replied gratefully, taking the tarp from her as he quickly added. "You can go and get Sam settled down. I can get the meat into the cabin myself."

"Alright… if you're sure?" She asked, earning a short nod from him before she conceded. Letting him go about what he was doing, she groaned as she turned back to go to the shed for the millionth time that night. She promised herself that it would be the last trip for the night, and decided to quickly check on Sam before locking up the shed. Hopefully, he should be fine until morning. When she reached the shed, she found Sam sitting by his bowl, waiting for more food to come to him.

"Sorry, lil' guy." She spoke up, moving to pick up the bowl while adding, noticing Sam stiffening up. "No more until tomorrow morning."

Lifting the bowl up, she added with a deep chuckle. "Liver again tomorrow. Lucky bo-"

She was cut off when Sam gave out a vicious snarl, lunging forward with his teeth bare and clamping down on her hand. A loud yell and curses were thrown as she instinctively pulled back, feeling the teeth tear further into her flesh. Her heart quickened, her breathing becoming heavy as her foot kicked out harshly, colliding with Sam and finally pushing him off. Releasing her hand, he backed off while she stood there, clutching her bleeding hand close to her chest. Her mind was racing, wondering what the hell triggered the dog to do that, and slowly her eyes fell to the food bowl that she had dropped when she was attacked, a few flecks of her own blood staining the steel. Quietly, she panted to herself and cursed. "Fuck… what the fuck?"

"Charlie!" A voice called out from behind her, the sound of footsteps approaching quickly barely heard over her own breathing and fast heartbeat, blood pounding loud in her ears as it felt like her hand was on fire. The pain was spreading throughout the whole limb, it like wildfire spreading up her arm, and as she clutched the hand, she felt the warm blood drip down onto the ground. Dylan reached the door, staring at the scene with widened eyes, and she felt his hands grab her arm as he examined her hand. Seeing the torn flesh and the blood staining his own gloveless hands, he snapped at her. "He fucking bit you!"

"It was my fault. He's clearly food aggressive, he didn't act like until I grabbed his bowl!" She shot back, unable to understand why she was defending the animal that tore her hand up to fuck.

"Oh, and that excuses the fact that your hand is torn to shreds?!" He retorted, looking over her hand before shaking his head. "Fuck, Mason'll need to look at this. Stupid, fucking animal!"

"Dylan, I brought him back. If there's anyone at fault, it's me." Charlotte explained, wincing as she tried to move her hand. Her words caused her younger brother to scowl deeply, his eyes flickering over to the dog as he sat there near his bed, Charlotte's own blood staining the dur around its muzzle. Staring at his face, she could see the thought running through his mind, and when he looked back at her, she just shook her head. It was her fault. She repeated that in her head, and finally he gave into her silent pleas before kicking the food bowl out of the shed.

"He can stay. No one is going near him, and he stays out here." He ordered, guiding Charlotte out of the shed before turning around. With her hand burning up in her other hand, she watched as he closed the shed doors and shoved a metal pole that was resting against it through the doors, keeping from being opened by the animal inside.

"If we leave him alone, he ain't gonna get better." She shot back, walking alongside Dylan as he scooped up the bowl from the ground, both of them making their way back to the cabin.

"He's lucky he isn't dead." He shot back, noticing her narrowed glare as he added in an angered tone. "Why are you looking at me like that? He's a wild animal, he just took a fucking chunk of your hand!"

A deep groan came from within her throat, her temper fraying between trying to keep everything alright in the group and her hand causing her so much pain. "He isn't wild. If he was, he would have never come close to me or Clem. He just scared."

"We _all scared!_ " She was stunned when Dylan finally snapped, stopping in front of her and glaring heavily. Standing there, in pain and worried, she too gave him a stern stare, but he didn't care. With his hands tightening into fists, he snarled at her through gritted teeth. "When are you gonna fucking wake up and look around you? When are you gonna realise that this isn't like before? We ain't gonna be one big happy family with a home and a dog who curls up with us by the fire!"

"I fucking know that! I know we ain't gonna be able to go back to how things where, but for God's sakes, Dylan, I'm trying! You ain't the one who's making sure we're all fed and safe, or that Clementine doesn't have to grow up wondering when her next meal is or if the walkers are gonna come and get her in the night!" Charlotte finally broke, letting out all her anger and exhaustion over everything that's happened. Her tone set him back, his eyes widening in shock as her words stunned him, and yet she couldn't even feel terrible anymore. She had enough. "I understand that things are really hard for you right now, Dylan, but have you any idea just how shitty it is for the rest of us? I am the only one left to look after you and your brother, I've lost my girlfriend, our parents, Elizabeth, and I'm stuck here trying to make the best out of the shit hand God dealt me!"

Taking in a deep breath, she felt a pange of guilt at Dylan's fallen face, and yet she knew that he'd feel bad about it and then go right back to butting heads with her. She took the chance to finally let him know what it was like to constantly fight with the people she loved. "I'm tired, Dylan. I am so fucking tired of arguing. I'm tired of… everything. You're not the only one who's trying to stop those thoughts from eating away at you, and right now, I don't know if I can win the battle or not."

With that said, she brushed past him and walked up the steps leading to the front door. When she realised he wasn't making any attempt to follow after her, she just shook her head softly and opened the door, entering the cabin finally. The living room was bathed in a warm glow, the fire burning in the small stove and keeping the cold out of their home. With her hand close to her chest, likely staining the front of her jacket, she tried to sneak past the group that were moving towards the door, having heard everything outside. While she ran up the stairs, she ignored Clementine's voice as she called out. "Charlotte?"

She didn't stop. She couldn't stop, and only when she managed to reach the bathroom did she give herself a chance to breathe. The pain was immense, preventing her from thinking about anything other than the wound on her hand, and she could only pant quietly as she used her good hand to open the medicine cabinet above the sink. They had stocked up on medicine and medical supplies from their trips to Albemarle. Overlooking the stuff that they had, she grabbed all that she needed to treat her hand. Disinfectant, bandages, and a needle and thread to sew up the torn skin. With the supplies pressed against her chest, she closed the door with her arm and left the bathroom, trying to shit the door behind her before giving up entirely.

Her bedroom, having taken it after Dylan decided to bunk with Mason from then on, was empty and cold, the bed left unmade from the morning, yet she didn't care as she dumped the supplies on the top of the quilt. With her good hand, she pulled the quilt back until it was flat against the bed, sitting down on top of it as she finally moved her injured hand away from her chest. Staring down at it, she winced at the sight of the blood and muscles that were exposed, until she finally glanced over at the peroxide. With a deep breath, she prepared herself for what was coming. "This is gonna fucking suck."

Slowly, she grabbed the bottle and looked over the label, reading out the hydrogen peroxide under her breath before unscrewing it with her teeth, spitting the lid out onto the quilt. With a soft whimper, she laid her hand on the bed and moved to tip some of the disinfectant onto the wounds. When the fluid finally made contact with her hand, she had to stop herself from pulling back instinctively, a sharp gasp escaping from her lips as she gritted her teeth together, trying to will the pain down as it felt like electricity was then being ran up and down her entire arm. She couldn't even move her thumb in pain. Inhaling and exhaling, she tried to control herself, staring at the bottle in her hand as she cursed. "Holy fuck, that was painful."

While looking for the cap, she shoved the bottle between her crossed legs and used the free hand to pick it up from the spot where she spat it out, screwing it back on top of the bottle to stop her from losing any of the precious liquid by accident. Without saying a word, she placed the bottle on her bedside table, staring at it for a few moments before her eyes moved over to the needle and thread that she left on top of the bandages. She really didn't want to go through with it, having been lucky enough to escape having stitches for the gash on her cheek, but her hand was torn to ribbons thanks to Sam, and she just sighed in frustration. Suddenly, she heard her door open and snapped her head towards the person who opened it, noticing that it was Christa. Standing in the doorway, the newcomer stared down at Charlotte's hand with a deep frown, shaking her head as she finally spoke up.

"Dylan told us what happened." She confessed, walking towards Charlotte while adding. "For the record, I think he's right. The dog can't stay here if he's already bitten one of us."

"Thanks for your opinion, but I disagree. Did he tell you that it was my fault that I got bit?" She pointed out, earning no response from Christa as she just stood there, crossing her arms over her chest while watching the other grown woman with disappointment. Growling under her breath, Charlotte grabbed the needle and tried to thread it, finding it difficult when one of her hands was pretty much useless. Seeing her struggling, Christa sat down on the bed in front of her and took the needle, threading it with more ease and offered her hand for Charlotte's. She hesitated, unsure whether she wanted Christa to do it for her, but she realised that it would be easier than doing it herself and finally gave up her hand.

Examining it, she listened as Christa mumbled. "He got you good. You said it was your fault, how so?"

"Sam isn't feral. He's just protective over his food. After surviving out there for God knows how long, I don't blame him." She explained, earning a raised eyebrow from the black woman as she just shook her head. "Look, what do you want me to say? I don't know why I'm trying to save him. Maybe Dylan's right, and Sam's too dangerous to have around, but I…"

She paused. Christa took notice to that, pausing in her attempt to sew up the torn flesh, the needle hovering over Charlotte's hand as she waited for an answer. Finally, she looked at the open window, watching the pitch black skies outside while she confessed. "I just want to save one person. Even if he's just a dog, he's still a life, he still had a family out there. I don't want to just give up when it gets hard."

"Not sure how much harder it can get, considering you're here with a busted up hand." Christa retorted sarcastically, looking up at Charlotte as she added softly. "This is gonna hurt. Be ready."

Nodding while breathing in deeply, she prepared herself for the needle piercing through the flesh of her hand. Her eyebrows furrowed down, her jaw clenching and gritting her teeth together in agony, but she managed to keep herself from wrenching her hand away, and so sat there watching as Christa carried on stitching up her hand. While she worked away, Charlotte took the time to keep talking about the subject at hand. "Look, Christa, all I want is a chance. I know that if I work at it, I can help Sam. He can stay in the shed, and you guys don't ahve to go near him if you don't want to. Just… don't send him away. He won't survive out there."

"I know. Before we met you guys, Omid and I were barely scraping by out there. It was getting cold. We were running out of food, water… I'm glad you let us stay here." She revealed, carrying on with the stitching as she added in a sterner tone. "I want you to promise me something. You won't let Clementine go near that dog. I mean it. Otherwise, we're taking him into that forest and he can go and find himself another family to put up with that bullshit."

Nodding in response, she winced as the needle was pulled out, the thread moving with it as the skin and muscles were pulled closer together. "Yeah. Alright, I promise."

"Fine, then." Christa responded, watching her work carefully while her hands kept moving the needle in and out of the skin of Charlotte's hand. It was painful, extremely so, but when she noticed that Christa was almost done with it, she bit the bullet and held out for just a little while longer. The two of them sat in silence until the stitching was done, her hand already feeling better than before, the burning having died down somewhat to just an awful stinging. Overlooking her fellow survivor's work, she was silent when she noticed Christa holding the roll of bandages, waiting for her to give back her hand. Watching as she wrapped up the injured hand, she listened as Christa muttered softly. "I hope you know what you're doing. For all our sakes."

With the hand bandaged, Charlotte just sat there while Christa stood up again, moving towards the door while the former looked over the bandages wrapped around her hand. She did an alright job. From beside her, she overheard Christa call out to her. "You should come downstairs. We got something."

That peaked her interest. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she moved to follow after Christa, the two exiting Charlotte's room before closing the door behind them. From over the bannister, she could hear joyful laughing and Omid's voice talking quietly, likely telling them a joke or something funny considering there was a chorus of laughter after he finished his sentence. The whole atmosphere was warm, homely, and it brought a smile to Charlotte's lips as she walked down the stairs behind Christa, peering over the side to see the others having grouped around in the living room. Mason and Clementine were sitting on the floor, enjoying what was revealed to be the Christmas presents that she and Dylan scavenged a week back. The youngest of the group was busy scribbling away, drawing something that she didn't want the others to see until it was done, while Mason was busy examining his new camera.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she noticed Omid gesturing her to come over to the couch, a grin on his face as he gleefully explained. "Sorry we didn't wait for you, but it's near enough Christmas so we thought, might as well open the presents now."

Beside him, she noticed a thick book resting on the couch cushion, standing beside him as she asked. "What's that?"

"Oh, Dylan got this for me. It's mostly about the Civil War and that. It's pretty awesome, huh?" He grinned, his hand resting on the top of the book cover. When he finally noticed her bandaged hand, however, his grin faded away and he pointed it out in a worried tone. "Holy shit, what happened to your hand?"

Mason and Clementine stopped adoring over their gifts, turning their heads to Charlotte as she just brushed off their concerned looks. Sitting down, she noticed Dylan refusing to look at her, deciding against pushing the clear problem he had and instead explaining in a calm manner, uneager to set the kids off about the danger. "It's nothing. I went near Sam's bowl and he snapped at me. I had to have stitches, but I'm fine now. Honestly."

"Did it hurt?" Clementine asked, sitting up from her spot where she was drawing away, leaving her crayons alone while she just stared at the bandaged limb with widened eyes. "I thought he wasn't mean."

"He's not, darling, but Christa and I agreed that it's best for the group if we just take it slow with him. For now, he stays out in the shed, and you three aren't allowed near him until he's better behaved, okay?" She explained, earning a gentle nod from Clementine. Mason, however, moved closer to his sibling and picked up her hand, pausing when he noticed that she winced with the movement. Trying to keep the mood light, she just moved her hand away and ruffled his hair. "I'm fine, buddy. Come on, let's see what everyone else got."

When she looked over at the coffee table, she noticed the comic books that she grabbed for Dylan laying there, one of them on the teenager's lap as he just flicked through the pages, ignoring everyone as they just went about celebrating the holiday. While distracted by him, she didn't realise a heavy album being dropped in her lap, her eyebrows raised in surprise as she slowly opened it. The pages were blank. While she closed the album again and appreciated the feel of hard leather under her fingertips, she listened as Mason explained. "You were pretty bummed when we had to leave the family photos back home, so I found this while rummaging around the cabin. This can be the first picture you put in."

He pulled out a photo from his back pocket, passing it to Charlotte with a soft smile. Taking it, she stared down at it and immediately recognized it, her lungs stilling as it felt suddenly impossible to breathe. It was a photo from her graduation. The whole family was there, including her grandparents and all her aunts and uncles. In the middle was Charlotte, Elizabeth standing next to her with an arm around her younger sister's shoulders, and the both of the surrounded by friends and family. Her fingers ghosted over Elizabeth's face, and Mason added quietly. "I grabbed it before we left. It's the only one we have left of everyone."

"It's… Thank you, Mason." She replied gratefully, pulling her brother into a tight hug. Feeling his face pressed into her shoulder, she buried her own into his neck, her eyes squinted as she felt hot tears threatening to fall down, before she managed to wipe them away by shoving her face further into his jacket. Voice muffled, she mumbled to him with a heavy heart. "Merry Christmas, buddy."

His hands dug into her own jacket, his voice soft in her ear as he replied. "Yeah… Merry Christmas, Charlie."


	10. In The Woods

Quiet. That was what Charlotte would describe life in the cabin like. Sitting on the stairs leading up to the front porch, she enjoyed the sun shining down on her, the warm rays a welcome change to the usual frost bitten weather, the harsh winds blowing in her face being replaced with gentle breezes that caused the tree branches to sway slightly, and even birds have returned to their homes amongst the trees. Birdsong echoing in the distance, she heard footsteps running towards her and turned her head slowly, watching as Sam came bounding towards her with a stick in his mouth. When he reached a few feet, he slowed down to a gentle trot before stopping altogether. The stick was dropped to the ground and covered in spit.

"Do you ever get bored with this?" She asked, grabbing the stick while Sam barked, jumping about waiting for the stick with excitement clear on his face. Smiling softly, she threw the stick as hard as she could, watching as it flew through the air and landed near the meat hook that Dylan set up for skinning animals. Sam wasted no time in chasing after it, barking all the way as she shook her head. "Yeah, I guess not."

With him having gone off after the stick, she took the moment to examine her injured hand, eyes looking over the wrapped bandages that hid her stitches. It had been a few days since the accident, and she kept true to her word. The children were not allowed near Sam, especially while he was eating, and she took care not using her hands to pick up his food bowl again. Honestly, she didn't know exactly how to help him, but she just kept nearby whenever he was eating. If anything, he seemed to have calmed, if only slightly, and she wondered if it was because he was being fed regularly. Letting her bandaged hand rest on her knee, she wince when trying to move her thumb, finding that any command her brain gave her thumb would just ignore.

She hoped it wasn't lasting nerve damage. Her thoughts were disturbed when Sam came barreling back, returning the stick back to the grown woman so that she could throw it again. Her face contorted in disgust at the feeling of dog saliva on her hand. Weighing it in her good hand, she looked up at the line of trees that surrounded the forest, before dropping her gaze to Sam, who was waiting patiently as she enthusiastically spoke to him. "You want the stick? Get the stick!"

With that, she stood up and threw the stick as hard as she could, watching as it soared through the air and Sam chased after it. A laugh came from her throat, almost quiet, before she let herself laugh out loud at the sight of the animal wanting something as simple as a stick so badly. As she continued to keep an eye out for Sam, and any danger that could spring out of the forests, she heard the door open behind her and tiny footsteps approaching the stairs she was just sitting on. Turning her head, she noticed Clementine standing by the railing, leaning against it with her head resting on her arms. She was too small to fully see over it, but she managed when on her tiptoes. Keeping an eye on Sam, Charlotte spoke up. "Clem, you know you're not allowed near Sam. Come on, what'll Christa and Omid think if you get bit?"

"I'm not near him. Christa and Omid have gone out to the fish traps and to get some water, anyway." The little girl revealed, moving to the top of the stairs as she asked shyly. "Can I throw the stick? Just once?"

"Clem…" Charlotte trailed off, rubbing the back of her neck while she watched Sam running back with the stick. When he reached her and dropped it again, she thought about the request for a moment, and scooping the gross stick from the ground, she turned around and held it out for Clementine to take. "Just once, and you have to promise you'll go back inside afterwards."

She nodded with a bright smile on her face, quickly running down the stairs and in the process nearly tripping over her own feet. When she reached Charlotte's side, the latter passed her the stick and smirked when she saw the same disgusted look on her face, Clementine handling the stick with a couple of fingers, uneager to actually touch the saliva. Kneeling down so she was eye level with the girl, Charlotte pointed over to the tree line and muttered. "That's the boundary. Let's see if you can throw as good as me."

"Okay." She replied quietly, moving away from Charlotte so that she had room to throw the stick. Sam saw her holding the stick and followed after her, excited to the point where he couldn't stay still, his feet jumping around while he let out a few soundless barks. Holding the stick behind her, Clementine grunted as she threw it with all her strength. The stick didn't go anywhere near where Charlotte was able to throw it, but it was a good try, the grown woman nodding her head as she stood up again.

It took a few seconds of running for Sam to grab the stick, barely having enough space to fully run, and when he brought it back, he dropped it on the ground and waited again. Affectionately rubbing the top of Clementine's hat, Charlotte picked up the stick and moved back to her spot by the stairs, being followed by both animal and fellow survivor. With a loud grunt, she threw the stick once more, and left Sam alone to play with it while she turned her attention back to Clementine. "Come on, darling. We had a deal."

Her small hand gripped her lower arm, Clementine looking up at the front door with an unreadable expression. Confused, Charlotte followed her gaze, but didn't see anyone there, and so turned back just as the child confessed. "Dylan's sad. I heard you two arguing on Christmas… it was scary. Why is he so angry?"

"It's just everything lately. He said some things that weren't very nice, and so did I. Right now, we're just keeping our distances until he calms down." She explained calmly, trying to make sure Clementine understood and wasn't afraid just because she and Dylan had a shouting match days ago. She seemed to understand, nodding her response before she fell silent. Frowning sadly, she turned to watch Sam running around with the stick in his mouth, no longer wanting to bring it back for her to throw again.

While she was looking away, Clementine piped up again. "He loves you, I think. It's like what I saw with Lee and Kenny. They argued a lot, but Lee still said Kenny was his friend. Maybe that's what it's like with Dylan?"

Crossing her arms, she took care not to rub painfully against her sore hand, and hummed under her breath. Her eyes fell to the ground. Quietly, she responded to the attempts to cheer her up from the little girl. "Yeah… Maybe you're right."

"I used to fight with my mom a lot. She always forgave me, even if I was really mean." Clementine added, turning her head to watch Sam as well. "Maybe you can talk to him?"

"I don't know. Honestly, I don't know if we can ever have a civil conversation without him going off the rails. I just wish I could do something for that boy…" Charlotte sighed, letting her arms fall to her side as she turned her upper body to Clementine, gesturing to the door with a flick of her head. "Go on inside now."

With a disappointed frown, Clementine trudged away from the adult as slow as she could, trying to get as much time as she could outside before being forced back inside. Eyes trained on her back, Charlotte thought about what she told her just then, about trying to connect with Dylan again, until she called out to the child. "Clem?"

She paused halfway up the stairs, staring over at Charlotte while the latter asked softly. "Go and grab Dylan, please? Tell him it's important."

She nodded slowly with a faint smile, moving up the rest of the stairs before disappearing through the open door. Watching as she closed it behind her, Charlotte took the time to sit back down on the steps while waiting for Clementine to relay the message to her brother. Meanwhile, Sam continued to run around the open spaces with the stick in his mouth, tossing it around and chasing after it like a game of fetch by himself. The sight was amusing indeed. A chuckle escaped her lips, her chin resting on top of the palm of her good hand comfortably. Eventually, he left the stick behind and just starting sniffing around, entertaining himself while his owner took the moment of peace to just relax. Scavenging, hunting, guarding their home, she was grateful for the five minutes where all she could do was sit down and actually enjoy living.

With a slow turn of her head, she looked over at the shed down the path, her eyes skimming over the work that she and Mason did over the couple of days so that Sam had a place to sleep that didn't constantly leak and let the draft in. It wasn't as cosy as the cabin, but it was the best that the animal would get, and he honestly didn't seem to mind. Considering he was likely sleeping out in the open before finding the group, it was to be expected. From behind her, heavy footsteps thudded against the worn wooden floor as they approached her, the sound of the door opening and closing accompanying the noise, and when she glanced behind her, she saw none other than Dylan standing by the railing above her. Staring down at her with narrowed blue eyes, he only muttered softly. "Clem told me you wanted to talk?"

"Yeah." She replied, placing her injured hand on the free spot next to her. "Come on. We gotta talk."

He obeyed, pushing himself off the railing and walking briskly to the spot where her hand was, somewhat joking to her. "You sure that's a good idea after last time?"

"It's the only idea I got." She shot back with a half smile. When Dylan sat down next to her, he leaned forward, arms resting on his thighs, and couldn't bring himself to actually make eye contact with Charlotte. It was alright. Rather, she just stared ahead as well, watching the wide tree line that hid whatever was lurking further within the forests. Her words died in her throat, her tongue lying in her mouth uselessly, and she had to take a moment to actually figure out how she was gonna start the conversation. After a few moments of awkward silence, she finally managed to get the words out into the open. "I'm sorry."

Her apology caused Dylan's eyes to drop, staring at his hands laying on his knees as he appeared thoughtful. She didn't know if the words had sunk in yet, but was surprised when he sighed deeply. "Yeah… I'm sorry too."

He paused, before leaning back and brushing his hand through his thick black locks, having styled his hair back into a slicked style to differentiate him from his twin brother. Getting out some of the knots that formed from months of not brushing it, he carried on explaining. "I'm not gonna say I'm gonna change. I keep giving excuses, keep complaining about our situation as if it's gonna make things better. I don't know why… but I'm not strong enough. Not like you and Mason. He seems to just take things on the chin, like this world is fucked but it ain't gonna change him. I wish I had that strength. I wish I could change like you did."

"You think I changed?" Charlotte asked, peering down at him with curiosity in her eyes.

Letting his hand return to its spot on his lap, he finally met her gaze and answered the surprise question. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you were a shitty sister sometimes. You were never there. Mason and I hardly saw you after you went to university."

Shame and guilt from the past were dredged up from her subconscious. Unable to keep her eyes on Dylan, she turned her head away and sadly stared at the group, eyes taking in every crack in the path and every plant that managed to worm its way through the stones and gravel. From beside her, Dylan added in a kinder tone. "I'm sorry it's not what you wanted to hear. Over the months since all this started, ever since we lost Mama, Dad, even Liz… You were there for me. You didn't run away and, honestly, I thought of you like a new mom almost. God knows I haven't made things easy. The _world_ hasn't made things easy for you, but I think I prefer the new you. The one who doesn't run away when things get hard…"

"Well, you say that you can't change, but honestly, I don't think I coulda done half the things here without your help, bud." Charlotte confessed, overlooking the entire opening in front of them. "Even without your knowledge in hunting, you and your brother are the ones that keep me going. I don't think I would have bothered going on this long if it weren't for you being there, reminding me that there's still something in this world worth fighting for."

"I think you coulda done without some of the shit I gave you." He joked, earning a small laugh from his sister as he too chuckled. Slowly, he leaned against Charlotte's shoulder and mumbled. "I don't know if I can change, but I'll try. I'm sorry for giving you shit over Sam… I was just so scared over what he did that I wasn't thinking straight. I don't wanna lose you."

That caused her chest to tighten painfully, her lungs feeling like there was no air left to breathe, and so she took in a few deep breaths while her hand affectionately ruffled his hair. When she managed to calm herself down, her next words were merely whispered. "I don't wanna lose you too. I'll keep you safe."

They sat there, no more words being uttered between them as they instead watched Sam finally notice the new arrival. Trotting over to them, he laid down by Charlotte's side and panted softly, exhausted from the exercise he was given all morning. Her bandaged hand hovered over the top of his head, slowly lowering until fabric touched fair, as to avoid rubbing uncomfortably against the stitches. He made no movement, rather allowing his new owner to stroke the top of his head gently. It was peaceful. Dylan leaning against her, she felt him shift and the weight of his head on her shoulder disappeared, her eyes quickly moving to see that the teenager had sat up completely, rather turning his attention to the comfortable dog resting below them. His hand hesitated, almost scared to actually touch Sam, especially when Dylan stared at the bandaged hand of his sister while she moved it away.

Sam noticed the lack of touch immediately, turning his head upwards awkwardly to look at her, almost confused as to why she had stopped lavishing him in attention. Only when Dylan managed to stroke the fur lining his neck did the dog turn his attention to him. Charlotte stiffened, worry subconsciously seeping in as she thought about what Sam would do when he realised that it was Dylan stroking him. Much to her relief, he made no attempt to growl or snap at her brother, rather opening his mouth again and panting while Dylan gained confidence in stroking him. With a soft chuckle, he piped up to the grown woman. "He seems to like me now, huh?"

"He's gotten better over these few days, but feeding him is still an issue. Hopefully I can train him to let us handle his bowl and food without snapping." She pointed out, leaving Dylan to stroke Sam while she glanced up at the skies. The clouds were gathering together, darkening in colour as they changed from a pale white to dark grey. With a deep frown, she returned her gaze to Sam and sighed. "There seems to be a storm brewing. We might have to keep him in the cabin tonight, it won't be safe in the shed with the weather."

"Christa won't like that." Dylan replied, looking up from the animal to his sister with a worried frown. "You made a deal that he doesn't go near Clementine."

"I'll keep him in my room for the night. He's comfortable with me, and then when the storm passes, he can go back out into the shed." Charlotte compromised, rubbing the top of Sam's head with a smile, watching as his ears flopped around with the moving of his stretchy skin. Dylan shrugged to that, finding nothing wrong with the plan, at least enough that he would bring any points up. So, he just kept quiet and continued to pay attention to his new friend, Charlotte watching the both of them with a smile returning to her face. Even if there was a storm that night, they would at least all be warm and dry, though she quietly hoped that Omid and Christa made it back before it started raining.

Eyeing the forests up unnervingly, she half expected to see walkers materialise out from the trees, or worse her old group. It still kept her awake some nights, the sight of their bodies on the road while she and her brothers drove by. Leaving them to rot and come back as the very things they spent months trying to survive against. Honestly, she understood Dylan's initial reaction to them, and with his words in the supermarket ringing in the back of her mind, she wondered if she herself could possibly forgive them for killing Samantha. They were friends, and she did the same atrocities that she did. Charlotte killed a man just before she escaped. Logan forced her, but she couldn't help the feeling that maybe if she resisted, tried to convince him to just let the man go, then there wouldn't have been bloodshed that day. At least, a little less bloodshed.

"You know what I miss?" she heard Dylan pipe up, looking over at him only to see that he was talking to Sam. With his hand still on the animal's head, he kept eye contact with him, voice calm and soft when he continued. "My dog. She was a beautiful sheep dog, and pretty good at following orders. You woulda learned a thing or two from her."

Sam seemed to be paying attention to the story, watching Dylan's small facial changes as his mood dropped. Taking a moment of silence as he thought back to that loyal dog, his frown deepened when he had the strength to finally carry on with the story. "Her name was Belle. We lost her in the first few days… She'd have liked this place, and I'm sure you will too."

Slowly, Sam got up to his feet, shuffling closer as he placed his head on Dylan's lap, letting out a low whine. It was almost like he understood what Dylan was trying to tell him. With a raised eyebrow in surprise, Charlotte gave him a small pat on the head and went to stand up, stretching out her limbs until she felt a pop in the joints. A sigh of relief grew in her throat while her arms fell to her sides. With Dylan and Sam occupied with each other, she took another peek at the skies, seeing more and more clouds gathering together as the threat of the storm seemed imminent. Worry started to gnaw at her from the inside, the thought of Christa and Omid being caught in the storm causing her stomach to twist around painfully. She had to keep hope that they wouldn't run into any problems while visiting the river. They should return home soon.

With a deep sigh, she turned to Dylan and instructed him. "Come on, we should bunker down for the incoming storm."

Shrugging his shoulders, Dylan pushed himself up from the steps and started ascending up the stairs being followed by Sam. Behind them, Charlotte followed after with a quick glance to the forest, somewhat hoping that her friends would appear right then and they'd all go inside to wait out the incoming soon. Suddenly, a high pitched scream echoed out of the forest, shocking both Charlotte and Dylan as they stopped in their tracks. Facing in the direction that she swore she heard the scream come from, she listened as Dylan asked in a frightened tone. "Did that sound like a woman to you?!"

Trying to keep hope, she shook her head and replied loudly. "I don't know!"

"Fuck, what if it was Christa?! They might be in trouble!" Dylan warned, running back down the stairs when Mason opened the door, looking out with Clementine by his side. Dylan turned to his brother, gesturing to Sam as he ordered strongly. "Mason, get Sam and Clementine inside. Don't come out until we get back."

His brother nodded, moving to grab Sam by the collar and guide him into the house. Clementine watched with widened eyes while Charlotte turned around, seeing Dylan having reached the bottom of the stairs and rush to her side, determined to figure out the source of the screams. "I'm coming with you."

She wanted to deny his help, but she did need someone out there to watch her back,and given that it was just him, Mason, and Clementine, she had to concede that he was the best suited to the job. Accepting his help with a short nod, she looked up at Mason and Clementine, seeing the older teenager comfort the terrified child before she called out to them. "We'll try to get back as quick as we can. Lock the door and don't answer it to anyone, do you two understand?!"

"Yeah, but will you guys be okay?" Mason asked, watching the forests with a wary stare. "There's likely walkers from all around honing straight in on those screams. It ain't gonna be safe."

"If there's even a chance that it's Christa and Omid out there, we have to make sure. We can't leave it to chance!" Dylan countered, turning his head to Charlotte with a serious stare. "Come on. We shouldn't waste any time."

"Right, stick close." She replied, running off from the cabin with Dylan beside her. Into the forest, trees passed by in a blur, the wind blowing loud in her ears as the duo followed after the screams that continued to echo through the forests. It didn't sound like Christa's voice, but she couldn't just go back and wait for luck to decide. She had to find the person and help. Even if it wasn't Christa, she didn't feel right just abandoning someone to a horrible death by walkers, or exposure with the storm brewing above them. A few raindrops fell down, hitting her on the face as the grown woman cursed. Slowing to a stock, both she and Dylan looked around, trying to see if they could spot the person in need.

All that she could see were trees. Looming over her, their bare branches unable to block out most of the rain that continued to pelt down. Her jacket protected her from the cold and the rain, but she started feeling it getting soaked as the rain just worsened. The thundering downpour made it harder to see and hear, yet after just a few moments of stopping, another scream of pain echoed not far from where they were standing. Sharing a look with Dylan, they ran after the source of the sound. Puddles formed in the soft mud, caking their boots and splashing about as they stepped in them, some of the water getting into Charlotte's shoes and freezing her feet. Thunder could be heard in the background, the clouds covering more and more of the once blue skies and that warm she took advantage of had all but disappeared.

"Over there!" Dylan yelled, pulling on Charlotte's jacket to grab her attention as he pointed. Following his gesture, she saw a woman stumbling through the trees in front of them, pursued by walkers on all sides. She wasn't Christa, but that relief was pushed away when Charlotte saw a deep bleeding wound in her side, the blood dripping down onto the flooded ground only to be washed away from the rain. Soaking wet and frightened, the woman didn't see the two as she kept walking, trying her best to get away from the walkers. Pulling out his knife, the teenage boy shouted to his sister. "We have to help her!"

She couldn't get a word in before Dylan ran off, leaving the grown woman behind to curse loudly before managing to pull her machete free. Using her undamaged hand was awkward, and the bandages she had wrapped around her other hand were getting soaked from being in the rain, causing concern with having to change them when she got back. For now, however, she followed after Dylan with her weapon at the ready. He wasted no time in coming to the rescue, kicking a walker that was distracted with the woman in the shin and backing off as it fell to the ground, hands digging in the mud and fallen leaves before he stabbed it in the back of its skull. Approaching one of the other walkers, Charlotte stared at it with narrowed eyes, finding it hard to watch her surroundings through the torrent rains. Lifting the machete over her head, she threw it down as the walker lunged, slicing it through the top of its head and into its brain.

The momentum caused the walker to fall forward as it died, Charlotte jumping to the side and almost slipping in the mud as she did so. Blood poured out of the open gash, staining the puddle water a deep red that even the rains couldn't wash away. With her machete free, she turned to the woman, finding that she was almost caught by one of the walkers that swiped for her. Rushing to her aid, she delivered a kick to the walker's stomach, the force thrown behind it causing the walker to fling backwards onto its back. Stunned and helpless, it couldn't react past a growl before Charlotte was on top of it, stabbing it through the front of its face with her machete. Grunting as she pulled it free, she turned to see that the injured survivor was unable to keep moving, leaning against a tree. She ran over to the unknown woman's side, hearing Dylan dispatch of the last walker behind them. Pale in the face, she could only focus on the large blood spot on the woman's jacket, her hands shaking as she tried to keep her weight up on the tree.

"She's hurt real bad, Dylan." She called behind her, spotting Dylan making his way over before the extent of the woman's injuries gave him pause. He watched with widened eyes as Charlotte thought over what to do, knowing that they barely had enough supplies to treat the injury, and that was given if the woman would survive the journey back to the cabin.

Quietly, she heard him ask in a scared tone. "What are we gonna do?"

Without another thought, she sheathed her machete and grabbed the woman, holding her up bridal style, finding it easier to carry her due to the unknown survivor's light weight and short body, especially compared to Charlotte herself. With a gentle tone, she comforted the woman when she noticed the terrified expression on her face. "Don't worry. We're gonna get you the help you need."

She started walking back the way they came, but Dylan remained where he stood, staring at something behind them before pulling out the pistol that he kept in his pocket. Holding it in his hands, he turned to look up at Charlotte and pointed out with a grim expression. "It looks like we have company."

Confused, she turned around and saw two people running towards them, moving far too fast to be walkers. Her confusion faded away to terror when she saw the guns they were carrying, unsure if they were friends of the woman she was carrying, and likely to think that they were the ones who attacked her. As they approached, she heard the woman mutter softly in her arms. "No…. run…."

It was too late. The two survivors, a tall dark-skinned man and his female friend, stopped right in front of her and Dylan, holding their rifles threateningly. Dylan raised his, shifting his eyes from one target to the other, while Charlotte could only stand there holding the woman. Her face grew paler with every moment they wasted, and she had a strong feeling in her gut that the people in front of her were not friendly. Finally, the man snapped at her. "You're holding someone we've been looking for. It'd be awful nice of you if you could return her."

"You two from her group?" Charlotte asked, eyeing up both of them as they just glanced at each other. The female survivor scowled at her companion, who turned his attention back to Charlotte as the latter added. "She's hurt real bad. You guys have a doctor?"

"Why don't you mind your own business?" The other woman growled, her grip on her gun tightening while Charlotte glared at her. Dylan watched with wariness, clearly distrustful of the newcomers while he watched the conversation go down. A weak groan came from the injured survivor, sparking the blonde haired woman to continue. "We've been tracking this woman down for days. Her and her entire group, they ran away from our camp. Ungrateful thieves is what they are."

"What my partner is saying is that we come from a community to the west, on the border between North Carolina and Tennessee. We opened our gates to that woman and her group, and now they stole supplies from us and ran. Our leader, he ain't pleased with being betrayed." The man explained, lowering his gun slightly as he offered to Charlotte and Dylan. "You two seem capable folks. You guys hand us over the woman, and we can all leave this situation alive. No one else needs to get hurt."

"It was you guys who shot her, wasn't it?" Dylan accused, refusing to lower his gun. "I don't trust a fucking word you're saying."

"Let the adults talk about this, kid." The man shot back, angering Dylan as the latter shot him a dirty look. Ignoring it, he kept his eyes on Charlotte as she just watched him, unsure how else to get out of the situation. He didn't deny shooting the woman, and even if she was a thief like he said, she didn't feel right about giving her up to those people. There was something off about the two. When she gave no answer to his proposal, his face turned dark and he raised his gun again, threatening Charlotte with its presence despite not even pointing the barrel at her. Hs voice was a guttural growl, deep and frightful as he ordered her. "Don't be stupid. Hand her over."

"I'm sorry, but that ain't happening." She rejected, maintaining her glare at him. His friend cursed under her breath and moved to raise her gun to just shoot Charlotte and be done with it, though she could barely lift it a few centimeters before Dylan fired a shot at her. The bullet pierced through her neck, causing blood to spurt out of the open wound. Hands flew up in an attempt to stop the blood loss, dropping the weapon, but it was futile as the woman staggered backwards and collapsed. Gurgles of pain could be heard as the man turned to her in shock, unable to react when Dylan coldly shot him as well, managing to get him in the head this time. A dull thud was the only noise he made, and soon even the gurgles from the woman died down to an eerie silence.

Standing there in shock, Charlotte watched as Dylan put his pistol away and picked up the dropped rifles, looking at the bodies while cursing. "Shit…"

"I hate seeing you have to do this, but right now, I didn't see any other way." Charlotte confessed, glancing over at Dylan as he just stared at the bodies. With a neutral expression, he turned his head to look at his older sister, noticing the woman in her arms growing weaker. Charlotte noticed this too, worried for the other woman's life as she explained urgently. "We gotta get back to Mason. Come on!"

He was right behind her as they set off back the way they came. Through the harsh downpour of rain, Charlotte could barely see in front of her, feeling the rain having soaked through her jacket and shirt underneath, the fabric sticking to her skin uncomfortably. Her jeans stiffened with the water soaking through them, her skin freezing cold and forming goosebumps as she shivered. The temperature was dropping rapidly, along with the sunlight as darkness grew. Thunder could be heard over the roaring of rainfall, a flash of lightning striking across the skies, lighting up everywhere for a brief second before plunging it into darkness again. Who knew what the woman in her arms had, along with a gunshot wound. If she didn't hurry up, they'd risk losing her to hypothermia before the blood loss and infection. The mud grew sticky with more water being added, Charlotte nearly slipping as she turned to follow the way back home.

Righting herself, she paused for a second, trying to gather where she was before Dylan ran past her, calling out to her while running. "Follow me!"

With nothing else she could do, she decided to was best and followed after her younger brother, hoping that they hadn't ran too far away from the cabin. Thankfully, the woman was close by when she called out in pain, the trees thinning out and the cabin clear on the other end of the opening. Sighing in relief, she tried to keep up with Dylan for the last few hundred feet sprint to the front porch. The thought of being warm and dry spurred her on, and when she managed to reach the front porch, she wasted no time in jumping up two steps at a time with Dylan in front of her. Banging on the door, the teenager loudly called for the others inside. "Mason, it's us, open up!"

Waiting for a few moments, she was grateful that they were at least out of the rain with the overhang protecting them. Her body couldn't stop shivering with the cold clothes sucking out all the warmth that her body could generate, her patience wearing thin when Mason finally unlocked the door. Opening it wide, he couldn't stop the look of shock on his face when he spotted the dying woman in Charlotte's arms, barely able to splutter words out while they rushed into the cabin. "W-What happened?!"

"Dylan, I need you to grab the supplies from the medicine cabin in the bathroom! I need a needle and thread, some clean gauze, rags and tweezers!" Charlotte ordered, making her way up the stairs to her bedroom. Dylan nodded, able to run up the stairs first to find the stuff that she needed to patch the woman up, leaving his sister behind as she walked up the stairs. Looking over the banister, she noticed Clementine sitting on the couch, watching with saddened eyes that Charlotte could only copy, unsure what to say to comfort her. The injured survivor needed immediate help, however, and she forced herself to focus on that as she called for Mason. "Mason, I need you upstairs with me. I need help patching her up."

"What can I do? I hardly even know how to do stitches!" He replied, fear clear in his voice as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. However, when Charlotte gave him an urgent hard stare, he sucked up the courage and followed after her, leaving Clementine alone downstairs. Reaching the door to her bedroom, she slammed it open with her foot and rushed over to her bed, laying the woman down on it before getting to work removing the wet layers of clothing.

When she peeled away the soaking jacket, she stared at the deepening blood stain on her dull white shirt with concern. Hands hovered over, almost unsure on what to do, before she dug deep and helped the woman sit up, trying to remove the shirt while explaining in soft words to her. "I need to get rid of this to get to the wound. Just try and stay like this while I…"

The woman obeyed, obviously aware that Charlotte and her brother were just trying to help her, and tried to stay as upright as she could manage while Charlotte peeled the soaking top off her shivering frame. Throwing it into a piled with the jacket, she helped the injured woman lay back down and went to fixing up the wound. The sight of the round puncture wound and blood pouring everywhere gave her pause. The gravity of the situation finally hit her, her brain suddenly deadlining as she tried to figure out what to do. At that moment, Dylan came in with the supplies in his arms, dumping them next to Charlotte as he panted. "I grabbed everything you need, Charlie."

He backed off, and finally saw the extent of the woman's wounds. Pausing in his step, he couldn't tear his eyes away as they widened, the shock getting to him as Charlotte finally pushed herself to do something. Grabbing the tweezers, she turned to her brothers and barked orders. "Dylan, go downstairs and keep an eye on Clementine. This is gonna get loud and I don't wanna leave her downstairs alone."

He nodded in response, finally tearing himself away from the situation and exiting the room, closing the door behind him to give the others privacy to do their work. With that taken care of, she turned her attention to Mason, finding the other teenage boy staring at the bullet wound with shock clear on his paled face. Her voice was sharp, trying to keep him focused enough to help her as she instructed him. "Mason, I need you to grab the bottle of water on the tableside and clean this for me."

Her words brought him out of his stunned trance, Mason gulping visibly as he managed to do what he was told. With the bottle of water in hand, he shuffled closer to the woman and hovered the bottle of the wound, pouring some of the water out onto it while his other hand reached for the rags. Passing one to him, she kept her bad hand to the side and watched as he wiped away the blood, cleaning up the wound enough so she could see. Looking in, she could see no exit wound in the back, and sighed in frustration as she explained to Mason. "I don't see an exit wound."

"That means the bullet's still in there. We gotta be careful and hope it hasn't broken up." He replied, placing the water bottle and bloodied rag back on the table before offering his hand. Staring at it, she looked up as he elaborated. "Your other hand is still useless. I can see if I can pull it out."

With an unsure nod, she passed the tweezers to Mason and moved to allow him a better position to reach into the wound. Sitting down near the upper part of the woman, Charlotte turned to look down at her, and upon seeing her frightened face, she calmly held the woman's hand and comforted her. "It's gonna be alright. Mason has to get the bullet out or it's gonna cause more damage. I'm not gonna lie to you, it's gonna hurt like hell."

"I'm going for it now." Mason piped up, reaching into the open wound with the tweezers. Without much medical background, he fumbled around trying to find it, and the sheer agony got to the woman as she let out a hoarse scream, unable to finish it as Charlotte covered her mouth. The sounds were muffled, her nostrils flaring as she tried to breathe, and her widened eyes watched Charlotte as the latter tried to explain to her.

"Your screams are gonna bring walkers. We'll try to be as quick as possible, just try to hold on." She whispered, glancing up at the window as the storm raged on outside. The loud rainfall and thunder could probably muffle the screams, but that was a risk that Charlotte was not willing to take, and so she passed one of the rags to the woman. "Here, scream into this if it'll help."

Taking the rag, the woman breathed heavily when Charlotte removed her hand, quickly shoving her face into the rag and crying out in pain as Mason continued working on her wound. His eyebrows furrowing in concentration, his eyes fixed in an unmovable stare as he worked the tweezers around the wound. Slowly, he extracted the bullet, staring at the shiny metal casing that was drenched in dark blood, throwing it away before placing the tweezers back on the bed. Wiping some of the sweat off his brow with the sleeve of his jacket, he turned to Charlotte with a frown. "I don't know how bad the damage is. All I can do now is sew up the wound, patch it, and hope for the best."

The removal of the tweezer poking at her insides was a relief for the woman, who moved the rag away as she breathed heavily. Her pale face was drenched with sweat, her dark brown hair tied up in a tight bun, but was starting to loosen up with strands sticking to her forehead. Pale blue eyes squinted at them, the woman clearly exhausted and unable to take much more of the pain, and Charlotte felt horrible as she turned to explain the situation to her. "We gotta stitch you up now. The hard part's over, and you've made it this far. Just this last stretch to go now."

A small nod was all she got from the woman, and with that she turned to Mason and nodded, giving him the go ahead to start stitching her up. Threading the needle slowly, he held the needle in one hand and stared down at the wound, trying to psych himself up before finally pushing himself to start the procedure. The needle slipped through the skin easily, a small trail of blood dripping out from the incision, though it was nothing compared to the amount the woman had already lost. Small groans of pain were all that the injured party could muster anymore, her head leaning to the side as exhaustion started to take hold. Charlotte watched in worry, keeping an eye on her while Mason carried on with the stitching. Eventually, her body had enough and she finally fell unconscious, her breathing slowed down yet still detectable. At least she wasn't dead.

Finishing up with the stitches, he cut the thread with his teeth and leaned back, admiring his work with a faint smile as he piped up. "I think I'm getting better at this."

"You did good, bud. Let's cover this and leave her to rest." Charlotte praised, ruffling Mason's hair with a smile as he chuckled. Grabbing the gauze by his side, he pressed it against the wound and grabbed the sellotape that Dylan had grabbed to stick the gauze on. Pulling out a few strands, he stuck the gauze over the wound, holding it in place as he tossed the roll of sellotape back onto the bed. With the woman all patched up, he stood up and grabbed the bits and pieces that were left behind from the operation.

While he was tidying up, Charlotte remained by the woman's side, staring at the bandaged up wound while messing with her own. The bandages had started to dry, but her hand started to feel cold and painful, pushing her to start removing the wraps. Unravelling them, she grimaced at the ugly looking stitches that kept her flesh together, her skin reddened and sore to the touch, but the pain had died down since the day of the accident. Remembering Sam, she looked around her room, unable to see the dog anywhere and turned to ask Mason about it, only to be interrupted by him as he explained with a smile. "He's asleep in my room. He wouldn't leave after being frightened by the lightning, so I just left him there."

"At least he's not out there." She replied softly, gesturing to the leftover bandages that Mason had left on the bed. "Pass them over here, will ya?"

With the leftover supplies in his arms, Mason paused mid step to the door, staring at the wound quietly before he just dumped the stuff on the desk beside him. Arms freed up, he closed the distance between him and Charlotte, a new rag in his hand when he sat down beside her and gently, taking care not to hurt her too much, grabbed hold of her injured hand. Slowly and carefully, he turned the hand around to get a good look at the stitches, before dabbing the rag on the soaked skin softly. Wincing in pain, her reactions got her a sympathetic smile from Mason as he looked up. "You should keep it dry. We don't want it getting infected."

"I couldn't wait the storm out." She replied, frowning deeply as she snuck a peek at the unconscious woman behind her. "And I'm glad I didn't. She wouldn't have lasted much longer out there if Dylan and I didn't come by when we did."

"It's good that you managed to help her. Was she out there on her own?" He asked, watching the slow rises and falls of the woman's chest while she breathed faintly. Charlotte couldn't help the nervousness appear on her face, eyes unable to keep contact with Mason as she just looked away. Her lack of a response caused him to frown sadly, unable to not think the worst as his voice dropped. "What happened out there exactly?"

"You can probably tell that it was no walker bite that put her in this condition." Charlotte grumbled, recalling the other survivors that threatened her and Dylan back in the forest. The echoing of the gunshots rang in the back of her mind. Mason himself just stared down at the hand he was holding, shuffling around uncomfortably while getting to work wrapping the hand back up. The dry feeling of bandages against her wounds were a welcome compared to the uncomfortable rubbing of the freezing cold and soaking bandages from before. As he concentrated on his work, she carried on with a serious tone. "There were people chasing after her. They told me that they came from a community to the west, and that the woman and her group were thieves and left the camp with supplies… We couldn't get away without someone dying."

"You shot them, didn't you?" He asked, glancing up at his sister before adding softly. "I know why you had to. If it was between you and them… I get it."

"It wasn't me who shot them. It was Dylan. He saved our lives, but it's horrible seeing someone being able to do something as shitty as taking another life. You weren't there, Mason. He was cold." She explained, her words causing Mason to widen his eyes in shock at the revelation. The both of them shared a knowing look, with the teenage boy finishing up the bandages around her hand and letting it go, sitting upright as Charlotte pulled her hand back and examined the work.

He had some practice during their time in the cabin, using Clementine or Dylan to practice his work, and she could see the improvement compared to what he did with the gash she got on her cheek. The gauze on her face was long gone, rather leaving behind an ugly looking scar that was paler than her tanned skin, the once torn flesh having knitted back together somewhat and a notch left in her left ear from where the bullet caught. Fingers playing with the hole in her ear, she left her newly bandaged hand resting on her lap when Mason finally piped up. "The people he shot… do you think the community they're from is the same one that the woman's from? The one who held Dylan hostage back in the town you guys came back from?"

The idea made sense. If the woman and her group escaped from that place, it was likely that others did as well, feeling east in order to get to the coast line. There, they'd try to find someway out of this destroyed country, or try and built a new community to try and survive. Either way, she couldn't stop the fear from setting in when she realised that, if the two incidents were connected to one place, then she and Dylan killed members of it. Their friends would likely come looking, and there's was still the matter of the woman's own group left out there. If they were still alive that is. When she gave no answer to his question, Mason continued to voice his concerns. "If her group comes here, we might not have enough resources to shelter them all, and with her injury, she won't be fit enough to travel for weeks."

"We'll figure it all out. Right now, we just have to focus on keeping her and ourselves fed and warm. I ain't losing her to hypothermia after risking mine and Dylan's necks saving her." She brushed off, finally getting up on her feet and unclipping the harness wrapped around her body, shrugging her machete off her shoulder and tossing the weapon onto the dresser. Free from the heavy weapon on her back, she briskly walked over to the door, eager to get dinner cooking. With a hand resting against the solid wooden door, she pulled it open by the handle and moved to leave, pausing for a moment before turning her head slightly and calling over her shoulder to Mason. "Keep an eye on her. I'll get to starting dinner."

"We should have some leftover fish from our catch yesterday. I'd get changed first, otherwise you'll catch a cold." He pointed out, standing up from his spot on the bed and starting to clean up the mess they left after stitching up the newcomer's wounds. With a sharp nod of her head, she left the room, shutting the door behind her before pausing for a moment. Listening to the distant pitter patter of rain pelting against the roof, she could make out thunder grumbling in the far distance, seeing the window down below in the living room flashing for a split second. Backing away from the railing that stopped anyone from falling into the room below, she walked slowly down the hallway towards the bathroom.

The door was slightly ajar, likely left that way by Dylan when he burst in looking for the supplies. Pushing it open further, she ignored the quiet creak that it gave off while moving and walked inside, closing it shut with her foot before startign to strip off her soaking clothes. Unzipping her jacket, she slowly pulled her arms through the sleeves and grimaced at how wet and cold her body felt. A slight shiver went up her spine, her jaw clenched for a moment before she managed to free herself from the sticking item of clothing, tossing it over the side of the bath. Opposite the sink and medicine cabinet were closets were towels were likely kept, some left behind when the owners disappeared. Opening the lightweight door, she grabbed a worn grey towel from the small pile on the top shelf, glancing over the other shelves while standing there. Over the couple of weeks they spent at the cabin, she and the others had took any chance they could scavenging clothes for themselves, keeping them in their closets in their rooms. Those that were left in the bathroom towel closet were just drying out, and so Charlotte picked up a pair of jeans that she had her eye on when returning to Albemarle.

Amongst the shirts that were from their last wash, she picked out a grey, long sleeved one that had a black cat face on it. Smiling at how adorable it looked, she tossed them onto the closed toilet seat and carried on stripping down, carefully tugging the sleeve of her shirt over her injured hand as to not jolt it. Her soaking pants were next to go. Standing there in just her underwear, she took a moment to glance at the mirror on the medicine cabinet, trailing her eyes over her upper body while turning around. Surviving those past few months had taken its toll on her, small nicks and scrapes having scarred over her body, and all the muscle that she managed to build up while in university had wasted down, letting her shoulder blades stick out underneath her skin. Still, she was grateful to still be alive, and quickly dried her soaked skin with the towel in hand. When she was reasonably dry, the towel was tossed on the side of the bath beside her wet clothes, needing to be washed as soon as the weather turned for the better. Looking up at the window in the bathroom, she sighed to herself when the storm showed no sign of moving on, instead raging on as the thunder roared in the distance.

Another flash of lightning blinded her, lighting up the room for a split second before it grew dark again. Leaning against the closet for support, she pulled the jeans over her long legs and jumped slightly, pulling the waist over her hips before fastening the button and zipper. The dry feeling was welcomed, and she managed to get her arms through the sleeves of her shirt without rubbing her stitches uncomfortably, finally squeezing her head through the hole and smoothing down the soft fabric. With one last look in the mirror, she smiled in approval and grabbed the towel, folding it up haphazardly and chucking it back into the closet, closing the door again before exiting the bathroom. Standing alone in the hallway, she could hear soft mutters from the living downstairs and raised an eyebrow, deciding to go and check it out before starting dinner. Her stomach growled in anticipation, but she ignored it while walking briskly down the stairs.

On the couch were Clementine and Dylan, the latter lying along it with the young girl resting between him and the back of the couch, her head resting on his shoulder while he held up one of his comic books, reading it in silence while letting Clementine sleep on him. He had already changed out of his soaking clothes, wearing a thin tank top while his jacket was left hanging near the fire to dry. The sight was heartwarming. Eventually, he spotted Charlotte standing by the stairs watching them, lowering his comic book until it was lying against his thighs, and whispered so that he didn't disturb the resting child next to him. "She was pretty tired. I let her sleep while I read my comic book."

"Was she alright down here?" She asked, walking through the living room towards the couch, pausing when she was a few feet from it. "Did she say anything about the woman we brought back?"

"Just questions about who she was. I didn't tell her about the other guys back in the forest. Figured it was for the best… They're dead now anyway, no use scaring her over what happened." He explained, turning his attention back to his comic book while changing the subject. "Are you gonna handle dinner tonight? I'm starving."

"Yeah, Mason said we had some fish leftover from the catch yesterday." She pointed out, walking towards the door leading into a small closet. Dylan said nothing and just continued reading his comics, leaving Charlotte to enter the small closet and look on the floor, spotting a small hatch that led to underneath the cabin. Opening it up, she was hit with a blast of cold air hitting her in the face, her skin growing goosebumps in reaction to the temperature drop. Immediately, she noticed the cooling box left down there in the cold, keeping its contents from going off, and pulled the box up before closing the hatch again. With it in hand, she left the closet and walked over to the door leading into the kitchen, getting ready to begin dinner.

Fish box on the table once inside, she grabbed the pot from the bottom cupboard, shutting with door with her foot while placing the pot down on the side. A couple of cans of soup, some fillets of the fish that she took from the box, and she dared to even let herself take the small bottle of pepper that they found abandoned in the cabinets above them. She threw some of the meat in the dog bowl left on the table, making sure that everything was deboned to stop Sam from choking on them. It wasn't much, but it'd have to do for tonight. Everything in the pot, she moved back into the living room and placed the pot in front of the fire, taking the can and using the can opener to peel the lid away, bending it backwards before staring at the deep red contents. Tomato soup wasn't her favourite, but it was all they had. So, she poured the can into the pot with the meat, placing the empty can on the coffee table behind her before getting to opening the second can.

Emptying its contents in the pot, she lifted the pot and left it hanging over the fire, picking up the bottle of pepper from the floor. It was almost empty, and so she unscrewed the top and dumped what was left in it. The soup concoction wouldn't be that spicy, much to her disappointment, but it would have to do. Leaving it to cook, she heard the door in the kitchen open and instinctively got to her feet, rummaging through Dylan's jacket for his gun. Weapon in hand, she kept it close as the door opened. Seeing only Omid and Christa having returned, she let out an audible sigh of relief and lessened her grip on the pistol. With a raised eyebrow in amusement, Omid propped his rifle on the wall and joked. "Nice welcome home. Thanks, Charlotte."

"I see you got dinner going." Christa pointed out, glancing at the pot boiling away while she dumped the few fish that they caught in the ice box left on the table. Nodding in response, Charlotte placed the pistol on the table near the box, hearing Christa ask softly. "How's your hand?"

"It's still tender, but not as bad as before. I think I avoided getting it infected." She replied, lifting her hand up while examining it. Christa was visibly relieved with that, straightening up while Omid moved around behind her, looking around as if he had misplaced something and was trying to find it again. Peeking around the pregnant survivor, Charlotte called out to her boyfriend. "You alright there, Omid?"

"Where's Mason?" He wondered, turning his head to Charlotte and Dylan. "And why are you two in different clothes?"

"Your jacket's soaking wet, Dylan." Christa added, having moved over to the hanging clothing near the fire and felt the still wet fabric. Charlotte and dylan said nothing, sharing a look between each other as the older sibling tried to think of a way to reveal the injured woman just upstairs. That wasn't even getting into how she would tell Christa and Omid about the people that they killed to protect her. Still waiting for an answer, Christa released the jacket sleeve and demanded answers. "What happened?"

"We found someone in the forest." Dylan piped up, lowering his comics again and starting to sit up, being careful to not disturb Clementine as he gently placed her head on the couch. Free from her grip, he sat with his legs off the couch, leaning forward while glancing between Christa and Omid. "She was hurt real bad. We brought her here and patched her up. Mason's upstairs keeping an eye on her."

"Jesus. You used the supplies that we barely have?" Christa sighed in frustration, rubbing the side of her head with her fingers. Charlotte crossed her arms with a frown, and even though she understood Christa's frustrations with them over depleting supplies, she didn't appreciate the tone after she risked her life to save the woman and to get the supplies in the first place. Omid tried to calm her down, placing a hand on her shoulder while asking the others.

"Did she make it at least? It won't be a waste if they used the supplies to help someone make it." He explained.

Unfolding her arms, Charlotte rubbed the back of her neck nervously, glancing up the stairs as she confessed. "We stitched her up as best we could. Right now, all we can do is wait and see if she can pull through. At least let's see if she can make it through the night."

"Was she alone?" Christa questioned. Charlotte paused for a moment, thinking about the two other survivors in the forest, and the mention of her group out there somewhere, before deciding against mentioning them. Shaking her head in response, she watched nervously to see if the others bought it. Relief washed over her as Christa just nodded in response, dropping her gaze to Clementine still fast asleep on the couch. "How did she handle it?"

"I don't know. I was upstairs helping Mason with the woman." Charlotte confessed, turning her upper body to watch Clementine as well. With Dylan sat next to her, the teenage boy took a quick glance at her before turning his attention back to the adults, having all but abandoned trying to read his comic book in peace.

Tossing the book on the coffee table, he stretched his arms forward until his joints clicked, starting to loosen his neck and back up while revealing to the others. "She wouldn't let me know anything. Just kept to herself uneven when we heard the woman screaming upstairs. Clem was scared… I could tell."

"Jesus." Omid muttered, stripping off his soaking jacket and leaving it handing on the stair bannister. His thin white T-shirt underneath fared better, though he still looked uncomfortably cold as he huddled near the fire. Christa took off her thick winter coat, leaving it hanging near the fire like Dylan's before moving to sit on the arm of the couch, a hand resting on Clementine's shoulder in a loving manner. The touch was enough to set Clementine off, her eyes snapping open and her body sitting upright quickly, a small yelp coming from her before her guardian managed to calm her down.

"It's alright, sweetie. It's just me." Christa whispered, moving her hands away as to not spook the frightened child again. Sitting upright with her legs underneath her, she rubbed her eyes free of sleep with a closed fist, before glancing around, as if confused as to where she actually was. A few moments passed, Charlotte started to grow concerned with how freaked out Clementine acted over simply being touched, but didn't butt in until the young girl asked loudly.

"Is the lady alright?" The first thing Clementine wanted to know was if someone she didn't even know made it. A warm smile appeared on Charlotte's face, calming the child down as she then continued questioning the adults. "What happens now? Will she stay with us?"

"She can stay until she's fit enough to travel, but then she has to leave." Christa interrupted, looking up at Charlotte and carried on before the latter could protest over the cold phrasing of the plan. "We don't have the supplies, or the space, and I don't like the idea of her group coming to find her."

"We don't know if she was with a group." Omid interjected, trying to keep the conversation calm.

"She… mentioned a group before she passed out. Christa might be onto something. We have a group of our own to look after, and I don't wanna get involved in whatever happened that ended with her getting shot." Dylan joined in, ignoring the heated looks he received from his sister. Christa appreciated the backup, however, nodding slowly as the teenage boy carried on softly. "We did all we can to help her. Right now, it'll be luck on whether she can actually pull through or not."

"When will she have to leave? It's not safe out there." Clementine questioned, glancing around the entire group as they shared looks. Charlotte leaned against the wall beside the window, peeping upwards as she saw the door leading to her bedroom opening, Mason standing on the landing and watching the conversation going on downstairs.

"When she's fit enough." She replied finally, earning a surprised look from Christa and Dylan over how quickly she changed her mind over the injured survivor upstairs. With her answer, Mason just pushed himself off the bannister and started walking down the stairs, alerting everyone to his presence with heavy footsteps.

Halfway down the stairs, he paused, leaning against the bannister again before finally speaking up. "She's awake."

"How's she doing?" Dylan asked his brother, moving to stand up when Charlotte stopped him with a gesture of her hand. Confused, he sat back down, still waiting for his answer whilst Mason just looked over all of them. With a deep frown, he shook his head, his black bangs obstructing some of his view, and his voice turned stern when he explained the situation to the other survivors in the room.

"She's running a fever, said she's real thirsty, and sweating up a storm. I think it might be an infection." Brushing a few strands out of his face, he kept eye contact with Charlotte, voice quiet and unsure as he asked. "I didn't wanna give her the antibiotics we have without talking about it with the group. What are we gonna do about this?"

"I don't wanna be the bad guy here, but we have to think about this. We don't even know if she'll live. If we give her the antibiotics and she dies anyway, it's just a waste of supplies that are hard to come by." Christa pointed out. Charlotte wanted to disagree, she really did, especially after the trouble she and Dylan went through to save the woman, but she couldn't help but see where the pregnant woman was coming from. Dylan and Clementine frowned, not saying anything in her defence, almost as if they were just expecting the woman to die anyway, and it was only Omid and Mason that seemed to not agree with withdrawing medication.

"Come on, guys. This is an actual person upstairs who is dying. I don't like the idea of just not trying to help her." The grown man piped up first, looking over at Charlotte as he tried to convince her. "You saved her. You patched her up, but now you're just gonna sit back and let her die?"

"What do you want us to do, Omid?" Christa interrupted, grabbing the group's attention. "I don't like this any more than anyone in this room, but we have to decide what is the best for the group."

"We're gonna let her die, aren't we?" Clementine piped up, sitting with her hands on her legs and a saddened look on her face. Charlotte felt sympathy and guilt eat away at her, unsure what to say as Christa lost that hardened expression, showing sympathy and sadness when her hand moved to rest on the back of the child's head, eyes flickering over to Charlotte as the two adult women shared a look.

"Alright." The hispanic sighed, pushing herself off the wall and moving to join Mason on the stairs. "It's just a waste of time letting her die after all the work we put in saving her life. We'll spare a few pills, and if it doesn't work, y'all can go about blaming me."

She didn't give Christa any time to rebuff her claims, rather jogging up the stairs with her brother hot on her heels. Rather than enter her bedroom, she swung a right and made her way towards the bathroom, opening the door quickly and stopping in front of the medicine cabinet. Opening it up, she glanced over the various bottles and medical supplies that they kept in it, her hand ghosting over a bottle of vitamin tablets before she finally spotted the plastic bottle antibiotics she was looking for. Fingers wrapped around it, she examined the half worn label before closing the cabinet door again. Her reflection greeted her with tired eyes. Ignoring it and instead focusing on what she had to do, she left the bathroom with Mason waiting for her by the closed bedroom door. He didn't even look at her, rather staring at the bottle of medicine in her hand before gesturing her to go in the room with a flick of his head, unwilling to follow after her.

As she passed him, she listened as he mumbled in an angered tone. "I'll be bringing up dinner. Your turn to watch over her."

When she turned her head to say something, Mason was already walking down the stairs to rejoin the rest of the group, leaving her alone to look after the unknown woman. Sighing in frustration, she wondered just how many people she pissed off today while entering the room. The temperature had dropped, the storm still raging on outside her window with only the heavy patter of rain hitting the glass pane echoing in the room. The woman just laid there, staring at the pictures that were hanging on the wall through half closed eyes. Coming closer, she was unnerved with how dull those eyes looked, sweat a clear sheen on her pale skin as her breathing become laboured. In all honesty, the woman didn't look in a good way. Trying to keep her face from turning grim, Charlotte sat down on the bed by her legs, lifting the bottle of antibiotics in her line of sight while smiling. "I got you some pills to help with the infection. They should help you get better."

Saying nothing, the woman watched creepily while Charlotte opened the bottle cap, tipping out a couple of antibiotics before leaning over to grab the water bottle left on the bedside table. When she offered the pills, the woman eyed them up for a moment, before taking them and gulping them down without a single word. Charlotte couldn't help but feel uneasy as she passed the water bottle, watching the woman chug it down to wash away the awful taste of medicine before trying to spark up a conversation. "If you don't mind me asking, what's your story?"

A confused look as a response and Charlotte decided to elaborate further. "I mean, where'd you come from before I found you in the forest? Who were those people that were chasing after you?"

Half closed eyes turned away from her, the woman turning her attention to the flash of lightning that just shone across the window then, lightning up the room for that brief moment. When it disappeared, only the candles that Mason had lit before keeping the survivors from being plunged into darkness. While sitting there, Charlotte examined the woman's face, taking in the tiredness and pain that radiated from her. Bags under her eyes copied her own. After minutes of just sitting there, she thought about just leaving the woman alone to rest, but paused in getting up when she finally spoke up. "Why'd you help me?"

"Huh?" Was all Charlotte could manage to say, surprised with the question and the lack of gratefulness from the woman that she was saved from being torn apart. Her shock slowly disappeared, taken over by the insult and annoyance that she felt as she tried to explain. "Because it was the right thing to do. You were gonna die if I didn't come along when you did."

"What's the point in me living if I don't know if my own son is alive?" The woman shot back, her voice dropping to a saddened sigh. The mention of her son caused the anger to completely disappear, Charlotte's face falling while the woman continued with her face still turned to the window. "You were told about the community to the west from here, by the people who that boy killed? It's called Howe's. My group… we didn't agree with how the man in charge there was running things. The strong must guide the weak. Problem was, he decided who was weak and who was strong. Compassion and kindness had no place there."

"I think I met someone from that place before. It drove her insane." Charlotte confessed, earning a sad and knowing smile from the woman. Eyes dropping to the unmoving hands that rested by the woman's side, Charlotte just listened to her as she continued the story.

"My son, my brother. They're still out there. In that storm." She sighed, lifting a hand to rest on her stomach, careful not to press against the wound that Mason had sewn up. She must have been terrified, nearly dying and now lying uselessly in bed with her entire family still out in the cold rain, unsure whether either of them were alive. Thinking about being in that situation, Charlotte didn't know what to say, rather placing her hand on top of the injured woman's in an attempt to comfort her.

A genuine smile appeared on her face at the gesture. Glancing down at the tanned hand on top of hers, the woman spoke up softly. "Name's Emma."

"Charlotte, though friends prefer to call me Charlie." Charlotte replied, lifting a leg so that it was resting against the thigh of her other leg. "I gotta tell you this, but my group's been talking. We can let you stay here until you're all healed and that, but then you're gonna have to leave. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I understand. I have to find my family anyway, and you've already done more than enough for me. Who knows, maybe we'll meet up again someday." Emma replied, both of them sharing a smile before a yawn passed through the former's lips. Cupping her mouth with her hand, she then stretched out and looked Charlotte up and down, one of her eyebrows raising as she asked. "How old are you exactly?"

Confused with the question, Charlotte went to answer it anyway with a shrug. "Turned twenty three back in August. Why'd you ask?"

"Honestly? I thought you were a bit too young to be those boys' mother. Who are you to them, then? Sister?" Emma questioned, leaning back into her pillow.

Keeping her gaze up, Charlotte let a small smile come to her lips, thinking about her brothers and grateful that there was someone who wouldn't assume she was old enough to be their mother. A soft laugh escaped her lips, and she just rubbed the back of her neck bashfully. "They're my little brothers. It's been just us for a good couple of months now."

"I take it your parents aren't around anymore?" The question caused the smile to disappear completely. Sadness instead replaced it, her eyes falling down to the quilt, and she found herself unwilling to actually answer the question. She didn't need to, as her silence was a perfectly good answer to the injured woman, who just left the uncomfortable conversation there with a quiet. "Ah, I see. I understand that. It's just been Nick and I for years."

"Nick? He your son?"

A nod was her response. Listening to her, Charlotte twitched uncontrollably when lightning struck again, the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance. It was pitch black out there. Watching the rain drip down her window, she was thankful for being inside the cabin that night, unable to get the thought of Emma's group being stuck out there out of her head. She thought about helping her find them, but she was already in deep shit with her group. Christa wasn't happy with Charlotte bringing Emma here, and then going against her and Dylan's wishes to give the injured survivor some of their precious antibiotics, then there was the angry tone in Mason's voice just before. Tired, she sighed in frustration and rubbed the front of her face, leaning forward into her hand while she stared at the carpeted floor. The owners before clearly didn't bother cleaning up before they disappeared, with crumbs and stains littering the floor and causing her to grimace in disgust.

From behind her, she could hear Emma pipe up. "Your brother seems a charming young lad. He was very hospitable when I woke up. He was the one who patched me up, wasn't he?"

"I helped…. Somewhat." Charlotte mumbled, still staring at the carpet as she further added. "He's the only one out of all of us who knows about patching people up. Before all this, he wanted to a doctor, you know? Studying to go to medical school and shit. When we were with… a different group before, he was learning more with our doctor."

"You were with a different group?" Emma picked up on, causing Charlotte to lean back and nod slowly. She hated thinking about them. Having finally moved on somewhat from finding her friends on the road, she hated having those feelings brought back up, the memories of what her so called friends did to Samantha. Her fingers ghosted over the large scar on her face, her face grim and dark at the living memory of what people she trusted did to her. Emma noticed the gesture, her voice low and cautious as she asked slowly. "Did… did they do that to you?"

"They shot me in the face and killed my girlfriend." She replied bluntly, deciding to just get it out of the way. The way she phrased it shocked Emma, who sat there with widened eyes and her mouth slightly parted, unsure what to say while Charlotte just furrowed her eyebrows in anger. She pushed the feelings away, unwilling to let them consume her again, and just added with a gentler tone. "You're not the only one who's had to run away from people you thought were your friends."

The conversation died there. It was awkward, just sitting there with Emma after confessing to such a big thing, but thankfully not long after the door opened slowly, alerting the two survivors inside to the presence of a newcomer. Standing in the doorway with bowls was Mason, the teenage boy smiling at Emma as he walked in, handing a bowl to Charlotte and placing the other one on the bedside table. Straightening himself up, he turned to the injured party and asked her. "How're you feeling?"

"Still a bit hot, and it feels like my insides are on fire." She confessed, looking over at the bowl with doe like eyes as she added nonchalantly. "Still hungry though."

"It might take a while for the infection to go, I think, but I have food here for you." He explained, passing the bowl of soup and fish over to the woman. Taking it with a grateful nod, she wasted no time in digging in, spooning mouthfuls of warm soup and bits of fish meat that had all molded together. It had likely been a long time since she had a hot meal, judging by the blissful expression on Emma's face. Spirling her spoon in her own soup, Charlotte messed around with her food, her mind somewhere else until she noticed Mason leaving the room. Quickly, she set her bowl on the floor and ran after him, turning the corner to see him leaning against the wall near her bedroom door. He seemed deep in thought, not even noticing her there until she cleared her throat.

When he looked up at her with a neutral expression, she came straight out with the truth. "What's wrong, bud? You brushed me off before like nothing."

"It's nothing." He replied quickly, too quickly for Charlotte's liking as she frowned at him. When he realised she wasn't going to let it go, he pushed himself off the wall and confessed the troubles plaguing him. "Alright. I overheard you guys talking before."

"I suspected as much." She muttered, rubbing the back of her neck as Mason nodded with his face showing the anger he was feeling. Eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowed, he crossed his arms and stood there in silence, listening as his sister tried to defend herself. "Look, we're all just scared, okay? We didn't know if she was gonna make it and the others didn't want the pills going to waste. They're pretty hard to get nowadays, bud. If it were different, you know I'd do everything I could to help Emma. You know that, right?"

"I thought I did. I thought you guys still cared about helping people, but then I heard you guys agreeing to just let her die from infection." He shot back, lowering his gaze as he tried to calm himself down. This was the first time she saw her brother get truly angry, usually knowing only a shy yet kind boy that greeted her with smiles and comforting words. This Mason, she didn't enjoy seeing him. "I'm sick of people dying. I want to help, but I can't do that with everyone turning against my choices. I expected Dylan to agree with Christa, but… I thought at least you had my back, Charlie."

"Mason. I know that things have been pretty shitty, and I'm sick of seeing people die too, but it's just the way the world is-"

"Don't." Mason interrupted, glaring at Charlotte as he continued to rant. "I'm not listening to the same old bullshit. That's the excuse Logan gave, you know? When our group were stealing from people, killing them, he told me and Dylan that one day, we'd be doing the same, that it was just the way the world is. Well, fuck him, I don't believe a word of it."

Taken aback with the words coming from Mason's mouth, Charlotte wondered what brought this side out of her little brother, standing there with a shocked expression while Mason calmed himself down. His anger faded away, rather replaced by a depressed glint in his eyes. Slowly, he turned around and moved towards the stairs, muttering behind him to Charlotte. "You should get something to eat. I'll be up later to check Emma."

With that, he was gone, and Charlotte was left on the landing alone, wondering what had happened to her siblings to change them from the people she once knew and loved. Down about her situation, she just rubbed her face with her hand and groaned in annoyance, turning back to her bedroom to at least enjoy the dinner before it was time for lights out.


	11. Mercy Kill

The next day brought clear skies, the sunlight beaming in onto Charlotte's face as she scrunched up her eyes, her hand moving over her face to shield them from the burning light. Blinking eyes opened, and she just stared up at the ceiling, taking in the beams running along the roof that held it up. When she retired to bed that night, she had slept in her brothers' room, using an old airbed mattress on the floor while the teenage boys slept together in the proper bed, Sam sleeping on top of Charlotte and keeping her body warm underneath him. However, that comforting weight was no longer on top of her, the feeling of shaggy fur between her fingers having disappeared completely, and so she lifted her head to see where Sam had gone. The empty space were he used to be just greeted her. Slowly, she pulled the thin blanket off her weary body and rolled off the air mattress, standing up with her spine aching in several different place.

Rubbing it with the palm of her hand, she turned to wake her brothers up and question them over where Sam had gone, panicking slightly when the thought of Christa finding the animal freely roaming the home building up in her stomach. However, that panic worsened when she saw that her brothers weren't in their bed, the quilt haphazardly made with the pillows still skewed wildly on the top of the bed, likely Dylan's work. Her hands rubbed her eyes, and she wondered if this was another night, pushing her hands deeper and deeper into her sockets before she started seeing stars flash up in her vision. The pain was building up to be intolerable, and so she removed her hands and looked around her again, seeing the same scene around her as before. It wasn't a dream.

Rather than relief, she was confused and worried over where they had gone, and left the bedroom as quickly as possible. Closing the door behind her, she paused when she heard hushed voices talking in the living room downstairs. A frown pulled at her lips, and she kept as quiet as possible as she approached the bannister of the landing. She gave a quick glance to her bedroom door, finding it closed and unwilling to disturb Emma, the woman likely resting after the stressful day she had yesterday. Instead, she leaned against the wooden railing and listened in on the conversation below her. A voice she could recognise as Mason's piped up. "What are we gonna do, then? I've done all I can but… I just don't see how we can fix it."

"You did all you could, Mason." That was Omid, Charlotte hearing the sympathy clear in his tone. "Maybe we should wait for Charlotte to wake up before we decide anything?"

"You don't have to." She called out from on top of the stairwell, making her way down the steps while the group all turned to face her in shock. With Omid standing by the fire, Mason and Dylan sitting on the couch with Christa and Clementine on both sides, she found herself the centre of attention and paused halfway down the stairs. The grim faces were all that greeted her didn't help the growing ball of anxiety forming in the pit of her stomach. Standing on the stairs, looking amongst the people staring back at her, she couldn't stop her voice from coming out small and worried as she asked quietly. "What's happened?"

"It's the woma- Emma." Christa corrected herself, turning to Mason while the teenage boy sat there beside her. He looked exhausted, almost like he hadn't been able to sleep at all last night, and he stood up slowly when he noticed all attention on him.

Approaching his sister, he kept his gaze on her, shaking his head softly as he sadly pointed out. "I don't think I stitched her up properly. She's still bleeding on the inside… It's not looking good for her."

"I saw her, Charlotte." Dylan added, his head in his hands as he tried to calm himself down from the sight that he saw. Unwilling to remove his hands, he just remained like that while Charlotte watched him with sympathy in her eyes. The others too felt empathy for the traumatised teen, Christa placing a hand on his back, just between his shoulder blades, and kept it there while turning her attention back to the other woman.

"She's been vomiting all morning. Complains about the pain in her stomach, and when Mason checked it, I saw what happened. It was swollen to hell." She explained. Frustrated and concerned for Emma, Charlotte shoved her face into the palms of her hands, slowly pulling her hands down while an annoyed groan escaped her lips. Even after giving her the antibiotics, stitching her up, and giving her enough time to rest before she would have to leave, all their efforts were for nothing. Without another word, she stormed back upstairs to her room, ignoring the others trying to get her attention. Trying to be as quiet as possible to avoid disturbing the ill survivor inside, she opened the door and peered inside. It was deathly silent, with the candles long snuffed out and instead the sunlight from outside beaming in through the uncovered windows, highlighting the paleness of Emma's skin as she just laid there in bed.

Her face was turned away, out of Charlotte's sight as the latter approached the bed. Even when she sat down, Emma made no indication that she knew the other's presence, and when she leaned forward to check on the injured party, Charlotte found that she was barely coherent. Half lidded eyes just like last night, clammy pale skin and her breathing looking like it took all of her strength just to breathe, she could tell that Emma was in a real bad way. Slowly, she raised her hand and pressed it against the other's forehead, feeling the skin underneath uncomfortably hot as she then turned her hand around, pressing the back of it against Emma's forehead only to get the same results. Pulling her hand away, she turned her head to the side and swore quietly. "Shit…"

Her words seemed to have unintentionally woken Emma up, her icy blue eyes opening and staring ahead unfocused for a few moments, before she blinked the sleep away and managed to focus in on the woman sitting on her bed. The sight of Charlotte brought a saddened smile to her face, and her next words, uttered with a tone of resignation, brought a chill up the other woman's spine at how done she felt about everything. "Mason already told me."

"We can still help. If we undo the stitches, I'm sure I can find where you're bleeding and… and…" Her words died in her mouth, her tongue feeling large and useless in her own mouth, and she knew that it was pretty much useless. They had no more supplies to spare, and Emma seemed unwilling to go through that pain again just for the hope that they could mend her up. Trying to sit up, she let out a hiss of pain, faltering for a moment before raising her hand, stopping Charlotte from helping her when the latter moved forward. Sitting back in her spot, she just watched as Emma managed to move up into a sitting position, her hand resting slightly on her stomach as she winced in pain. Briefly, she closed her eyes and breathed through her mouth, finding it difficult to handle the pain radiating from her wound.

Unsure on how to help, all Charlotte could think about saying was what would happen eventually, her eyes falling to the hand resting on top of Emma's stomach. "What do you wanna do?"

Fear was all she could see in those eyes. That, and some acceptance of what was to come. It was frightening, seeing someone so ready to face death and yet not at the same time, wondering what must have been going through that woman's head while she's lying there in bed. Finally, she heard Emma whisper, her face fallen grim as she replied. "I don't want you to waste any more supplies on me. You've done enough, both you and that little boy in there. All I want is to see my son before I go."

"I don't know if that's even possible." Charlotte confessed, unable to see that disappointment on Emma's face as she turned away. Instead, she watched the drops of rain that remained on the window roll down, forming small pools at the bottom on the window sill. Out there, hopefully still alive, was Emma's group, but even if Charlotte was willing to go out there right then, she didn't know where they were, or where they could've moved after the incident that resulted in Emma being shot. Do they even know about their group member's injuries? Does Nick?

"Hon, it's alright." Emma sighed, resting her head on the wooden headrest behind her. "Not everyone can see their loved ones before they die. It's just how things are nowadays. If it helps, I'm glad that I ain't alone at least."

Charlotte turned back to her, unable to stop seeing the disappointment and sadness over not being able to see her family again. Her lips pulled into a thin line, she shrugged and asked slowly. "If I were to go and find your group… you know where I could start?"

A smile warmed up her heart. With her head still resting on the bedpost behind her, Emma opened her eyes and blinked again, watching Charlotte as the latter rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. She didn't expect an answer that would help, and really only offered just to give the dying survivor some peace of mind before she died, but she was surprised when Emma replied in a low tone. "We were coming in from the west, and we reached this bridge not far from here. We were having a quick rest stop, but turns out we were being followed ever since we escaped Howe's. Carver's many things, but fuck is he persistent."

"Carver? That's the name of the guy in charge there?" She piped up, earning a nod in response from Emma. Frowning deeply, she let a few moments of silence pass by before speaking up again. "What happened?"

"I think you can pretty much guess what happened. They wanted to take us back, we refused, and it all turned to shit pretty quick. I ran with Sarah, but we got separated in the forest… I got shot shortly after that." She finished explaining, watching as Charlotte's face fell at the mention of the person who was with her. This Sarah, she could have been unable to get back to the group, and would have been wandering around the forest all night in the storm. In all honesty, it didn't seem good to either of them.

The silence turned awkward, with Charlotte deep in her thoughts and Emma drifting between being lucid and hardly knowing what was happening around her. Remembering how Dylan described her wound, she decided to check it herself and moved off the bed, hovering over the wound underneath the quilt, her hand moving to pull it before she paused. Glancing at Emma, all she saw were blurred eyes staring blankly ahead and decided to she should at least know how bad things were, sucking up the courage to move the quilt enough that she could see the gauze, a large blood spot indicating where the wound was. Even without having to remove the gauze, she couldn't stop a look of horror from appearing on her face when she saw how swollen the stomach region was, the skin discoloured and pale with sweat continuing to roll down her face. It didn't look good. Pulling the quilt back, she stood there, staring at Emma before promising quietly. "I'll find your family. I promise."

No response was given to her words. So, she left the woman alone to rest while she exited the bedroom, closing the door as softly as she could before making her way to the top of the staircase. She didn't want to waste any time. Her feet moved on their own, taking multiple steps at a time, and she practically flew down the stairs. The group had disbanded while she was gone, Christa having gone into the kitchen to sort out breakfast while the rest were just sitting around, no one in the mood for talking or games with a dying survivor above their heads. Dylan glanced at her, saying nothing as Charlotte decided to get her intentions out of the way. "I'm going."

"What?" Omid piped up, lifting himself off the wall and staring at the grown woman in confusion. "What'd you mean you're leaving?"

"Emma's dying. She's accepted it. Hell, I think she's pretty much prepared for it as any of us can get, but all she wants is her family here when she does go. I know where they were. I'm going." She explained, moving to walk past the group when Dylan stopped her, standing up from his spot on the couch in front of her. Confused and annoyed, she snapped at her brother. "Dylan, move outta my way."

"No. I know why you wanna help this person, and why you wanted to help every person suffering that we crossed after we lost our last group, but… this is enough. Even if you find them, then what? You're gonna bring them to the cabin, have them say goodbye to Emma, and then leave? What if they don't wanna?" He asked, trying to keep his cool after his previous meltdown. Charlotte crossed her arms with a scowl on her face, understanding where Dylan was coming from but found it infuriating that he kept going against what she was going to do. "We have no space, no food, and the last person we brought in, you wasted antibiotics on and is now dying. Maybe this is a sign that we should stick to doing what is for the best. Looking after the group."

"You're just a kid, Dylan." Charlotte shot back, moving past him while adding. "How do you know what the world is like? How do you know what's best for the group, more so than me?"

"You keep brushing me off as just a kid, when I've contributed to this group just as much as you have!" Dylan snapped, squaring off against Charlotte with narrowed eyes and bared teeth. "You think helping everyone will make up for what happened?! Will somehow make Sam's death less meaningless and everyone will be happy and safe?! I ain't even gonna say that's not how the world works anymore, because that's the same excuse Logan gave!"

Charlotte's anger disappeared. Standing there, with pity instead of rage on her face, she quietly responded to Dylan's claims. "You did more for this group than I ever will, but you ain't half an asshole when you want to be. This won't bring Samantha back. _This_ won't make me feel better over her death. That's not why I'm doing this, bud. I'm doing this because it's the right thing to do. If we don't help people, then we give up our morals, our _humanity_."

"Humanity isn't going to keep us alive." Dylan pointed out, backing off slightly when he realised that Charlotte wasn't even angry with him anymore. Omid and Mason watched with worried looks, the latter staying close to Clementine as the child watched the argument go on with widened eyes. Finally, Dylan gave up and turned to where he kept his jacket, picking it up while he mumbled. "If you're gonna do this, I don't want you going alone."

"I can go." Clementine piped up, surprising everyone as they all stared down at her. "I wanna help. If Dylan's going, I wanna go too."

"Hon, it's dangerous out there. Besides, we need someone to help the others watch over the cabin while we're gone." Charlotte pointed out, kneeling in front of Clementine while the child frowned disappointedly. Small hands in her own, she flashed a grin, trying hard to appear happy and not worry the child, but the lack of a smile back told her that the attempt wasn't working. So, she continued in a low tone. "You know I can't let you go. Christa and Omid won't like me very much for it, and this is something I gotta do. You just stay here and keep an eye on things, okay?"

"Okay…" She mumbled back, clearly upset over not being able to help yet didn't push the subject further. With that taken care of, Charlotte moved to stand up again, when a frantic barking could be heard from the front garden. Confused, Charlotte got to her feet quickly and moved to her old bedroom with Omid and Dylan following after her. Moving the curtains to peek outside, she saw Sam standing stiff just in front of the cabin, barking as someone stood there, petrified to move in case the dog turned on them.

"Who's that?" Omid piped up, peering through the window next to Charlotte and staring at the person. She didn't reply to that question, trying to see if she could identify the person just standing there, but had no such luck. With bushy black hair and a pair of bright red glasses sitting on her tanned face, she kept her arms close to her body in fear as Sam continued barking, not looking like he'd let up any time soon. So, Charlotte pulled herself away from the window and ran to the door, pulling it open harshly and moving to the front of the porch.

Standing over the railing, she whistled loudly and ordered the dog. "Sam! Come here, boy!"

With her voice echoing behind her, Sam stopped barking at the terrified girl and ran up the stairs, sitting next to Charlotte's leg with his head shoved between the wooden slats, still watching the survivor with an unmoving stare that made her even more wary of the group. With the noises stopped, Charlotte patted Sam on the head and moved to walk down the stairs, turning her head to the dog when she saw him trying to follow after her and ordered in a stern tone. " _Stay._ "

Letting out a low whine, he obeyed her commands and laid down, his head resting between the wooden slats again as he watched his owner approach the other human. While she walked towards the girl, she couldn't stop that pange of sympathy from hitting her when she saw how soaked she was, her arms now wrapped around her thin shivering frame. Wearing nothing but a thin black shirt and a sopping blue jacket over it, she stared up at Charlotte with widened brown eyes, clearly terrified of the survivor in front of her. When she was just a foot in front of her, Charlotte stopped, blue eyes clashing with brown, and she gave a small smile when she held out her hand. "Come on, you don't have to be afraid."

Staring at the hand, the girl slowly moved on of her hands that was wrapped around her body and grabbed hold of Charlotte's hand, walking closer to the warmth as she continued to shiver. Guiding her back to the cabin, Charlotte looked up, noticing Dylan and Omid still watching in the window, and Mason and Clementine having gone to the open front door to see what was happening. Christa had joined them, staring at the scene with a surprised expression while the others continued to walk towards the cabin. Looking back down at the girl, she asked in a quiet tone. "What're you doing out here?"

She didn't reply. Overlooking her blank face, she wondered if the poor girl had gone into shock, and just focused on getting her inside and out of those soaking clothes before she caught her death. Helping her up the stairs, she felt the girl stiffen under her touch when she saw Sam lying there, the dog making no attempt to bark again when he realised that Charlotte was trying to help her. So, he just watched them walk through the front door before settling down in his spot, keeping an eye out for any danger. Mason and Clementine moved out of the way when Charlotte guided the girl into the cabin, both of them watching while the grown woman had the newcomer sit down on the couch. From behind her, she heard Christa call out. "I'll grab some towels and clothes for her."

Her footsteps up the stairs were all that she could hear after that, too distracted with helping the girl while her group gathered around. Clementine kept quiet, watching from behind Mason as the teenage boy asked the newcomer. "Are you alright?"

"I think she's in shock." Charlotte muttered, staring at the blank stare on the girl's face. Something popped up in the back of her mind, and with her lips pursed in thought, she decided to give it a go and asked quietly. "Sarah? Is that your name?"

The mention of the name snapped the girl out of her shock, her head turning slowly to Charlotte as she stammered. "H-How do you know my name?"

"Yeah, where'd you figure out that name?" Dylan added, staring at Charlotte with raised eyebrows while his sister just remained silent. With a grim expression, she turned her attention back to Sarah and explained softly.

"I met someone from your group. Emma, Nick's mom, right?" That brought a small smile to Sarah's face. However, Charlotte couldn't bring herself to return the bright expression and could only manage a brief smile, before her face fell dark again at the thought of the woman just above them. When Sarah seemed worried for her, the grown woman added in a saddened tone. "Your friend's upstairs. I don't wanna lie to you, Sarah, but it doesn't look good for her."

"What's wrong with her?" She questioned, waiting for a response from Charlotte as everyone in the group shared a look with each other, unsure who would be the one to break the news over what happened to Sarah. Mason and Dylan seemed unsure, and when Charlotte didn't move to explain further, the latter of the twins decided to take it upon himself as he approached the confused teenager.

"She was shot. Charlie and I found her in the woods and brought her back here, where we patched her up. She's not recovering from it… I'm sorry." He apologised, lowering his gaze in sympathy as Sarah stared at him in shock.

Without a thought about it, she turned back to Charlotte as the grown woman sat there, listening as the teenager begged her for information about her friend. "Where is she?"

They were interrupted by Christa appearing again, a towel and new dry clothes in her arms, and her voice echoing in the silence as she stopped in front of Sarah and Charlotte. The latter looked up at her, taking the things from the other survivor as she explained. "Breakfast is almost done. What's happened here?"

"This is Sarah." She introduced, turning her attention back to the depressed teen. "She's from Emma's group. I… I just told her about Emma."

Curses were muttered under Christa's breath. With the clothes and towel in hand, Charlotte held out her other hand for Sarah to grab, muttering in a calming tone to the teen as she obeyed and held onto the hand offered to her. "I'll take you upstairs to see Emma. Come on."

The others said nothing as Charlotte stood up, leading Sarah to the staircase while they went to get ready for another trip out to the river. Christa disappeared into the kitchen again, likely to finish up whatever she was doing for breakfast, while Dylan slipped his jacket on and zipped it up, ready to go out if Charlotte was still willing to go and find the rest of the group. The stairs creaked under the combination of their weights, Charlotte staring at the half open door leading into her bedroom as they reached the landing at the top of the staircase. Releasing Sarah's hand, she nudged her in the direction of the door, following after her as Sarah rushed to go and see her friend. When she reached the door herself, Charlotte stopped dead in her tracks, staring at Sarah as the teenage girl was unable to move, staring down at a dying Emma with widened eyes, tears welling up in the corner of them.

Emma, having heard the commotion going on, slowly turned her head, her brief frown instantly disappearing when she saw her group member standing in front of her, in the flesh. Her voice croaked, words whispered as she slowly raised a hand. "Sarah? I can't believe you're here."

"Emma…" Sarah sniffed, lurching forward as she closed the space between her and the injured survivor quickly. Arms wrapped around Emma's neck, Sarah burying her face in her shirt while gasping. "Wha-What happened!?"

"It's alright, Sarah. Everything is gonna be alright." Emma comforted. Charlotte remained by the door, unwilling to intrude on the emotional moment, and instead watched somenly when Emma added. "Nick, is he with you? Did you find your father and everyone else?"

"N-No. I ran, just like you told me too. I didn't know where I was or where my dad was. But… I didn't stop running. It was so scary out there."

Charlotte's heart broke at how terrified the poor thing sounded. Glancing down at the clothes and towel that Christa had given to her, she glanced back up at them, slowly interjecting into the conversation as she walked closer. "Sarah, you should really change out of these clothes. I got some new ones for you here."

Placing them on the end of the bed, she straightened up, realising that Sarah had pulled herself away from Emma again, staring down at the clothes with reddened eyes. Poor dear must had been so scared. Nodding slowly, Sarah walked past Charlotte, picking up the towel to dry her hair and face, distracted while the two grown women turned their attention to each other. Hand in pocket, Charlotte quietly revealed to Emma. "I'm gonna head out to find your group. Just, try to hold on until I come back."

"Thank you for this. You're a good person, Charlotte." The warmth spread through Charlotte's chest. Spurred on by the gratefulness of the person she was helping, she turned around and exited the bedroom, giving Emma and Sarah some privacy for the teen to get changed and make up for lost time with her friend. Quickly, she came down the stairs, peering over the bannister to see that Christa had finished cooking up breakfast, the group eating fish for what felt like the millionth time in a row.

Her stomach growled in want, hadn't eaten since yesterday, but she ignored it in favour of getting as much daylight as she could in the short winter days. Dylan himself had finished, likely rushing to eat everything so that Charlotte didn't have a reason to leave him behind. When he saw her reach the bottom of the stairs, the teen got to his feet and asked her. "We heading out now?"

"Where are you guys going?" Christa questioned, glancing between the two before she added. "You're going out to find Emma's group, aren't you?"

"It's the right thing to do, Christa. Emma's dying. We can't change that, but we can make sure her family is around her while she goes." Charlotte explain, unwilling to entertain an argument over what was right and what was best for the group. Accepting that Dylan would come with her regardless, as well as needing someone to watch her back, she gestured for her brother to follow after her, plucking her gun up from the coffee table while the both of them made their way to the door.

"Wait." Christa piped up. Charlotte didn't know why she listened, but she did, stopping in her tracks before turning her head, watching as the pregnant woman approached her and Dylan. Face grim, she crossed her arms and conceded, likely as fed up with all the fighting as Charlotte herself was. "I'll keep an eye on Emma. If she turns before you guys come back, I'll be the one to put her down."

"Alright. We'll try to be quick." A nod was all she got back. With all said and done, Charlotte turned back around and left the cabin with Dylan by her side, both of them walking down the steps and starting their trip towards the forest. Sam watched, unwilling to move from his spot and instead rested his head on the porch again, whining quietly to voice his worries towards his own. Charlotte was too far away to hear them, and left the cabin behind as the duo entered the dark forests.

It hadn't gone noon yet. The sun, barely having risen over the horizon, was too weak to bathe the ground in warm rays just yet, leaving the earth cold and frozen over, with sheets of ice crunching under Charlotte's boots as she made her way along the worn path. With the storm gone, only puddles were left, freezing cold and yet not frozen over yet by the dropping temperatures, likely going to be thawed out as the sun rose over the course of the day. Charlotte recalled the bridge that Emma revealed, having crossed it herself while she and her brothers were fleeing from the infested city, as well as crossing it again to get to the nearby towns to scavenge. Emma's group was likely having disappeared after being caught by those Howe's survivors yesterday, but it was as good a place to start the search as any. If anything, she hoped that they would remain around the general area in hopes of finding Emma or Sarah.

Dylan kept to himself, narrowed eyes always on the lookout for walkers, or for more of those survivors that they ran into yesterday. Neither of them conversed much, not after nearly every conversation they had lately ending in trading verbal blows and attacking their sensitive points. The mention of Samantha from before sprang to mind. Charlotte was angry, more than angry in fact, considering Dylan should have know, more so than anybody else, that mentioning the deceased woman was a low blow to his sister. So, she'd give him the silent treatment, hoping that it'd be enough to make him reflect on his behaviour and try to improve. Didn't really work much in the past, but there was very little else she could do.

Pausing in her track, she stared ahead, noticing that an old and huge tree had fallen over during the storm last night, blocking the path that they previously used to get to the bridge. With no way around it, and unwilling to waste time in looking for one, Charlotte approached the trunk and jumped up, fingers and half bitten nails gripping into the scratchy bark, splintering it under the force of her pulling her skinny figure over until she was standing on top of it. Hopping down on the other side, she grunted softly as her boots hit a previously hidden puddle. Some of the freezing cold water got inside, causing Charlotte to lift one of her shoes and groan in annoyance and frustration, before she noticed Dylan jumping down beside her. With only a brief nod to check that the other was alright, they carried on their way, Charlotte hoping that her feet would dry out with time.

When they managed to reach the bridge, the sun had peeked more from behind the horizon, the skies no longer the mirage of colours with dawn and instead a beautiful pale blue. No more grey clouds that warned rains or storms. Shivering as a rogue winter wind hit them full force, Charlotte's nerves were pretty much frayed as she heard numerous sounds all around her, the grip on her gun tightening as she kept it in front of her. Usually, it was just a squirrel or some crows that were hiding in the bushes, but the lack of walkers made the nervousness worse. They could have been anywhere. Finger tapping against the cold metal, she kept it away from the trigger, unwilling to waste what little ammunition that they had left, instead keeping a sharp eye on her surroundings while they carried on walking. With Dylan providing another pair of eyes, she felt somewhat safer than she would've if she had gone out alone.

"There's the bridge." Dylan suddenly piped up, stopping completely as he stared up ahead of them. Charlotte paused by his side, narrowing her eyes as she tried to see if there was anything up ahead. Just like her brother said, the bridge was in front of them, out of the cover of the forest , but she couldn't stop the disappointment when she couldn't make out anything living on the bridge, listening as Dylan sighed. "I don't think they're there anymore."

"Come on, let's check it out anyway. If anything, it'll give us something about what happened." She pressed on, continuing to walk out of the forest and into the wide open of the countryside. Dylan seemed more unsure, nervously following after her while looking all around him, ready to move if he saw something that he didn't like.

The sound of the river coursing along underneath the bridge could be heard when she stood at the beginning, staring down to see if Emma's group was anywhere. No such luck. Holding the pistol in one hand, she rested the other on her hip and hummed softly, trying to think over where they should start when Dylan appeared by her side, glancing around as he huffed. "There's so much to cover. We're gonna have a hard time finding Emma's group before dark."

"Well, the sooner we start, the more time we'll have." She retorted, moving towards a broken part in the barrier of the bridge, peering down in the rushing waters below as she called behind her. "Be careful, Dylan. We don't know if those Howe's assholes are still sniffing around."

She got no reply out of him. Brushing it off with a shake of her head, she moved away from the broken barrier and looked around, noticing that some of the cars that were left abandoned had new bullet holes in them, approaching the vehicles to get a better look. Left out in the rain and the snow for months, they had started rusting over, but as she kneeled down and stared at the doors, she noticed circular puncture holes where the fight likely took place. Running her finger along it, she glanced up at the windscreen, seeing that it had been smashed with the broken glass shards littering the inside of the car, sparkling in the early morning sunlight. Getting back to her feet, she noticed a few walker corpses littering the ground. The rotting smell got overwhelming when she approached them, but they looked fresh, with the blood having all but washed away by the rain last night.

Covering her nose, she left the bodies alone, wondering if the gunfight had attracted more to the area. While she walked about, she kept an eye out for any moving walkers that could be hiding, unnerved as she passed another vehicle in case a walker had crawled underneath and waited to swipe at passing legs. With the coast seemingly clear, she turned back around, unable to find anything else of use to them on the bridge, and instead approached Dylan again. The teenage boy was kneeling in front of another body, but it didn't look like it had turned with the flesh pale and eyes staring blankly to the side, a hole in their forehead making it not very hard for Charlotte to figure out how they died. One of Dylan's hands was stretched outwards, showing some ammunition that he scavenged from the body. Pocketing his finds, he muttered to his sister. "Not like he'll need it anymore. Did you find anything?"

"Not a thing. Looks like we're gonna have to start looking up and down the banks, see if they ran off that way. They can't have gotten far in the storm." She explained, walking past Dylan as the latter got up to his feet. With him behind her, they started walking back into the forest when, suddenly, a gunshot rang through the air, a bullet just skidding past their feet as the duo jumped in fright.

Without another thought, Charlotte grabbed Dylan and threw him behind the car, joining him behind the cover with her pistol held close. Heart hammering away, she tried to peek around to see who it was shooting at them, only to immediately retract her head when another shot was fired, the bullet leaving a mark in the body work of the car. Dylan kept close, holding his own weapon with his eyes wide, fearful and unsure what to do, and Charlotte didn't know what to say to comfort him. So, she turned her head and shouted loudly. "Stop shooting, there's a fucking kid here!"

"Goddammit, get your finger off the trigger, boy!" A gruff voice called out. After waiting a few moments, Charlotte risked peeking again to see what was going on. When she wasn't nearly shot again, she risked getting up, pointing the gun at the culprit with her arms resting along the bonnet of the car. On the other end of the bridge stood a man, long arms holding up a rifle and his eyes hidden in the shade of his maroon coloured baseball cap. His height rivaled that of Charlotte's, him standing tall while another man, shorter yet looking significantly older with greyed hair that looked almost shaved, and a beard that was greying as well, stood beside him, yanking the rifle out of the younger man's hands.

With the gun no longer being pointed at them, she slowly rose from her hiding place, gesturing for Dylan to stay where he was as she stood up fully, still aiming the gun at the unknown survivors as she called out. "Are you guys friendly? We don't want no trouble!"

"Yeah, we're friendly!" The older man shouted back. She could believe that, watching as he lowered the rifle to show that he wasn't bluffing. Lowering her own gun, she turned around and gestured for Dylan to follow her, making her way towards the two men that had just been shooting at her and her brother. The older man put the strap of his rifle over his shoulder, keeping it there as Charlotte closed the distance between them. With them closer, she could see that they looked worse for wear, the older man having a bandage wrapped around his upper leg that had a small blood patch on it, soaking through his dirty jeans.

"Sorry for the scare." He apologised, turning to frown at the younger man beside him. "You're lucky my nephew can't shoot for shit. Name's Pete, and this here's Nick."

"Charlotte. My brother's Dylan." She introduced, gesturing to the angered teen beside her with a flick of her head. However, the name Nick rang a bell, her face falling more grim as she added. "Did you say your name's Nick?"

"Yeah. What about it?" Nick answered aggressively, still not trusting Charlotte even after his gun was taken off him by Pete.

From behind them, Charlotte noticed another man appear from underneath the bridge. Tanned skin similar to her own and a mullet of dark hair that reached above his shoulders, he was carrying a hiking bag on his back. Given that Nick was still waiting for her answer, she replied slowly, hoping that this was the group they were looking for. "Is your mom Emma by any chance?"

"My mom? Do you know where she is?!" Nick interrogated, approaching Charlotte more as she stood her ground, facing up to his aggression with narrowed eyes.

"She's at our cabin in the woods. It's serious, Nick. I came here to find you because…" She paused, unsure whether she should be the one to give him the bad news. Watching his aggression slip away to fear, she pushed her own nervousness away and finished her sentence. "She's dying. She wants you there for when she goes."

"Oh shit." Pete swore, turning around with a hand on the back of his shaved head. Nick was stunned, standing there as he tried to understand what Charlotte told him. Dylan let his anger wash away about before, instead watching the group react to the news that one of their own was dying with sympathy clear in his eyes, sharing a glance with Charlotte before the third man came forward.

"What about Sarah?" He asked, worried about the safety of the teenage girl as he added. "She's my daughter, was she with Emma when you found her?"

"She's at the cabin too. She's fine, if a bit soaked from the storm." That made the man calm down slightly, though Charlotte didn't want to waste time in standing around with Emma already on borrowed time. Grabbing Nick and Pete's attention, she explained in a stern tone to drive the message home. "We don't have much time left. I can lead you back to the cabin. Just follow me."

With them behind her, she led them back into the thick cover of the forest, trying to keep up a quick pace to get back to the cabin as soon as she could. Dylan was silent beside her, occasionally sending quick glances at the other survivors trailing behind them, somewhat unnerved by Nick. Charlotte shared the sentiment, the sound of gunshots ringing in her head as the thought of him shooting at her and her teenage brother hardly ever going to be erased from her memories. Suddenly, Pete appeared by her side, quietly asking her. "How did you find her?"

"She was screaming in the woods." Charlotte started, her voice a quiet whisper as the whole situation plagued her. "Dylan and I ran after it, and sure enough, we found her. She was bleeding, and I mean _really bad_ , but that wasn't even the worst bit. She was being chased by people, someone who said that you guys came from a community that wants you back."

The mention of the community caused Pete to fall silent for a moment. He was thinking, she could see it in his eyes, and before long, he replied to the truth. "We did what we could to get outta that place. Trust me, you wouldn't want to live there with your brother if you had a choice. Seems like Carver ain't willing to let us go that easily."

"It ain't none of my business about what you guys had done, but let me be clear. Once you guys have found Sarah and said your goodbyes to Emma, I want you guys to carry on. No offense, but it's just too dangerous to have you people here when I have to think of my own group." Pete grunted at that, saying nothing else as they made their way through the forest back towards the cabin. There was no beating around the bush, she felt bad for kicking them out so soon after telling them about Emma, but her resolve kept her going, her innate drive to protect those she loved from danger. It was for the best.

"This could be a trap…" She heard Nick mutter to Carlos. It was insulting, yet not very surprising that she wasn't being trusted, given that she was a stranger who just happened to be this hero who saved Emma and Sarah from Carver's men and the storm. It was a bit suspicious. Still, she let Nick have his untrusting thoughts, remembering that she was doing all she could and they would move on anyway. There was no point in trying to make friends with people who weren't going to be around for long.

Luckily for her, the cabin came into view, parts poking out from the cover of trees as the group paused on top of a small hill, the newcomers accompanying her likely surprised to find that the cabin was real after all. There was a truth to Charlotte's words after all. Nick came up to her side, staring down at it as his voice, once harsh and angered, turned soft and almost scared in a way. "My mom is in there?"

"Yeah. Come on, I'll take you to her." She replied softly, placing a hand on the space between Nick's shoulder blades until he tensed up by the touch, walking ahead without her as she just lowered her hand again. Dylan came up to her side, staring at Nick as he ran off before sighing to himself, visibly tired from the whole situation before he followed after the grown man silently, not wanting the others waiting at the cabin getting the wrong idea if Nick decided to just burst through the door and demand to know where his mother was.

With Carlos and Pete still remaining by her, she listened as the former spoke up, appearing by her side while Charlotte started walking down the hill slowly. "This place is pretty well situated. How did you come across it?"

"We just found it a few weeks back. It was just luck, I guess." Charlotte replied, watching as Dylan was seen talking things out with Nick. Give the teen his due, he seemed to be capable of holding Nick at bay, stopping the grown man from barging his way up the porch steps and through the front door. The conversation between her and Carlos died quickly, as almost on command, Sam came barrelling out of the shed when he saw that there were other people with his family. Lips pulled back and snarling, he barked aggressively at the newcomers, not trusting them as the sounds echoed in the empty space.

Instinctively, Charlotte put herself between the other survivors and Sam, raising her hands as she slowly approached him, her voice soft and tender while she tried to calm the enraged animal down. "Easy there, boy. Shhh, it's okay. They're not gonna hurt us."

Sam seemingly calmed down, though his heckles were still raised and his body still stiff even when Charlotte continued to approach him. Staring past her at the men, he didn't loosen up until Charlotte placed a hand on his head, rubbing the fur between his leaned back ears soothingly until he started to calm down. With Pete and Carlos not doing anything that would warrant the dog to get even more aggressive, he sat down instead and continued to stare at them, his ears moving to the side when Charlotte explained. "Sorry about the scare. He's still getting used to being in a group."

"I can tell. How long he been here?" Pete asked, kneeling down in front of Sam and offering his hand for the animal to sniff. Intrigued by the gesture, a wet nose poked the hand, sniffing it madly as he tried to figure out whether the smell was friendly or not. Unlike the stench of the walkers, Pete smelled human, at least as human as someone who likely hadn't bathed in months could. Charlotte shared the sentiment, unable to remember the last time she was able to have a nice hot bath. At best all she got was a dip in a lake during their journey across the states weeks ago.

"Only a couple of days. I wouldn't get too close to him, though." She warned, showing off her bandaged hand as a warning to the others. Pete, getting the idea of what she was trying to say, moved his hand away and got back to his feet, following after Charlotte as she left Sam alone to walk about, knowing that he'd rather stick to where he had food rather than wander off and get lost. He wasn't a very adventurous dog anyway. Passing Dylan and Nick, she was followed by the whole group, leading them to the front door as she slowly opened it, ready to accept Christa's scoldings when she found that it was only Omid and Clementine in the living room.

Pleased to see her return, Clementine jumped down from her spot on the couch, running over to where Charlotte was standing as she happily pointed out. "You're back! Did you find the lady's friends?"

The appearance of Nick by Charlotte's side gave Clementine pause, the young girl nervously rubbing the upper part of her arm as her gaze fell to the ground. "Erm… Hi."

"Darling." Charlotte started, kneeling in front of Clementine as she kept explaining to the child. "I want you to stay down here, okay? I'm gonna take Emma's friends and we're gonna have a grown up talk with her about some things."

"She's gonna die, isn't she?" Clementine suddenly asked, causing everyone around her to tense up considerably. Charlotte didn't know what to say, and her grim expression did little to convince Clementine of otherwise as she continued sadly. "I don't want anyone else to die."

"I know. I don't either. Just… do what I say, okay?" With an affectionate rub on the top of Clementine's baseball cap, Charlotte got back to her feet, unable to shake off the feeling in the bottom of her stomach when she saw the girl's face covered by the brim of her hat, hiding away the saddened eyes that often stared at her. With just a small nod, she walked off with Dylan following after, only pausing to give Charlotte a knowing look before leaving her company. Still standing there, she couldn't help the depressed tone from seeping into her voice, turning to the others as she explained. "She's upstairs. I'll show you."

Nick said nothing, but was clearly eager to reunite with his mother after likely thinking he'd never see her again, sticking by Charlotte's side like glue as they walked up the stairs in the living room. Omid said nothing, instead watching them while Dylan tried to lift Clementine's spirits up, showing her something in his comic book as a way to distract her from what was going to happen. As soon as she reached the top of the stairs, she noticed the door to her bedroom open with Christa visible from where she stood, the pregnant survivor sitting by Emma's side as the two women chatted away quietly. Mason appeared from time to time, clearly checking to make sure that Emma was as comfortable as he could make her. Nick, upon spotting his mother, immediately left Charlotte's side and entered the bedroom, causing Christa to immediately tense up while Emma's face lit up.

Going into the room after him with Pete and Carlos beside her, the sight of Charlotte caused Christa to calm down, realising that the strangers were with her friend. The room was silent, all for Emma's laboured breathing as she called out. "Nick, is it really you?"

"I'm here, mom. You're gonna be okay. Carlos will help you." Turning to look over his shoulder, he stared at Carlos as he all but begged the tanned man to save his mother. "You can, can't you, Carlos?"

"You a doctor?" Christa asked, eyeing Carlos and Pete up and down with suspicion clear in her face.

"I was. I'll see what I can do to help her." He conceded, approaching Emma while Pete took to the other side of the bed, wanting to stay near his sister while Nick refused to budge, still holding onto his mother's hand like it would be wrenched from him if he even loosened his grip. Christa moved from her spot, allowing Carlos to see the extent of the damage to Emma's abdomen while she passed Charlotte, both of them watching the scene with heavy hearts as they heard the doctor ask loudly. "May I ask who did these stitches?"

"That, uhhh... that was me." Mason confessed, raising his hand slightly while approaching Carlos. Pasuing nervously, he was clearly unnerved by the hard look on Carlos' face, trying to lessen the guilt he was feeling by explaining. "I'm not much of a doctor, but I did try my best."

"How old are you?" That was an odd question. Mason paused in his rambling, rubbing the back of his neck while looking everywhere else in the room.

"Fourteen, sir." He finally revealed.

That made Carlos raise an eyebrow, his back to Charlotte meaning that she couldn't see what look he had on his worn face. Though, the way he said his next sentence was hinted with surprise, praising Mason as he explained. "You've done well given your age. If you guys can give me some room, I would like Mason to help me with this."

"Okay, we'll just be downstairs, bud." Charlotte allowed, spotting him nodding slowly in response before she and Christa left the room, allowing Carlos some space to do his work without an audience. Nick still refused to budge, and likely knowing the volatile state that the younger man was in, the doctor didn't push the issue and instead worked with Mason by his side, teaching the teenage boy in medicine. Hopefully, Mason would learn more from Carlos before the group would leave again, the knowledge likely useful to their own group.

Closing the door behind them, Christa paused in the hallway, her arms crossed over her chest as she finally spoke up. "She's getting worse. While you were gone, I saw how pale she was getting, and her stomach… I don't know what Carlos can do now."

"At least she has family now. Not many people get that luxury anymore." Charlotte pointed out, leaning against the bannister as she glanced around. "Where'd Sarah get off to?"

"She got a little overwhelmed with seeing Emma like that, and I don't blame her. Mason suggested to her that she could sit in his room and read one of his books." Christa explained, looking down the hallway to the door that led into Mason and Dylan's room. Charlotte followed her gaze, unmoving from her spot until her friend suggested quietly. "You should go and check on her. She's been asking constantly when you'd come back with her dad. She'll wanna hear the good news."

"Sure. Omid's on dinner duty tonight, isn't he?" Christa nodded at that, causing Charlotte to add with a grimace. "Please keep an eye on him. For some reason, that man can make everything taste burnt and undercooked at the same time."

That got a short laugh from Christa. Nodding faintly, she walked past Charlotte and down the stairs, leaving the other woman alone to listen to the muttering and brief cries of pain that were coming from the closed bedroom. It didn't sound good. Uneasy about the idea of exposing Mason to that, her brain pointed out that he'd already seen things that were just as bad before, especially since it was him who had to patch Emma up in the first place. Whether she liked it or not, he had to grow up sometime, and unfortunately, that time was now. Walking down the hallway, she paused once she reached the closed bedroom door, wondering whether she should leave Sarah in peace to read her books or bite the bullet and go in. Hand hovering over the door knob, she listened to the silence from inside the room, unable to hear anything, and slowly pushed the door open so that she could peek through the small crack.

Sarah sat there, cross legged on the bed, a book in hand as she quietly flicked through the pages. When Charlotte opened the door more, a loud creak echoed through the room, causing her to quietly curse when she saw Sarah looking up from her book, staring at the grown woman through her huge red glasses. With only a soft smile, Charlotte slipped into the room, closing the door behind her as she asked the teenage girl. "Hey there, Sarah. What're you reading, there?"

"A book Mason gave me. It's pretty much fantasy with elves and dwarves, and a giant dragon living under a mountain. I like it." She explained, looking back down at her book as she frowned slightly. "It's pretty big, though."

"I can see. Still, sounds like something worth reading." Charlotte shrugged, sitting down on the bed next to Sarah's feet. The mattress sank under her weight, causing Sarah to lean forward slightly before she managed to pull herself back, out of the small pit that Charlotte made sitting down. It was still awkward, sitting there with Sarah and not knowing what to say or do, only having met her a couple of hours ago. Glancing back at her, she noticed the young survivor wearing a thick sweater that was a deep purple in colour, likely given to her by Christa while her own clothes dried out.

After a few moment of silence, Sarah plucked up the courage to ask quietly. "Did you find my dad?"

"Yeah, we did actually." That made Sarah beam brightly, happy that Charlotte had kept true to her word and found her family. However, Charlotte had to stop her from getting up to go and see Carlos, quickly explaining when she was met with confusion over her hesitation to let Sarah go. "He's with Emma now. We'd best give him some time to help her, and then you can go and see him."

"He'll save her, right? My dad's a doctor, he saved a lot of people." Sarah tried to convince herself, unable to stomach the thought of losing Emma with Carlos there. Charlotte didn't share the same faith in the doctor as his daughter did, knowing the extent to which he can save people, especially with no medical equipment or antibiotics to stop infection. Knowledge could only go so far.

"I don't know, Sarah." She confessed, turning away and staring down at the ground while Sarah fell silent. Slowly, she heard the duvet rustling while the girl pulled her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them with the book left abandoned by her side. Confused, Charlotte glanced back up, staring at that vacant look in Sarah's eyes before she gently reached out, her voice quiet as she asked. "Sarah, are you okay?"

She didn't reply. Even when Charlotte's hand ghosted over her knee, she just flinched away like Charlotte's hand was on fire. Stunned, she pulled her hand back, unsure what to do to help Sarah, and instead tried to lift the mood again by pointing out. "It doesn't mean he won't try, though. Who knows, stranger things have happened."

Again, Sarah said nothing, staring ahead at the empty space like there was something there, but when Charlotte turned around, there was nothing there to see. Slowly, she turned her head back, remaining where she sat with her hand no longer reaching out, unsure how Sarah would react if she kept persisting. Instead, she let her hand rest on her thigh, keeping the girl company as they both sat there in silence. Only the wind could be heard from outside the shut bedroom window, the sun still shining through with the curtains pulled back, lighting up Sarah's tanned face while she just sat there quietly. Without anything else to do, Charlotte glanced down at the book sitting by Sarah's side, slowly plucking it up and glancing through the enormous amount of pages, staring down at the small print with narrowed eyes.

She was right, the book was pretty big, feeling especially heavy in her hands as she weighed it, realising that there were multiple bent corners on different pages in the book. That took her back, recalling her bending library books like that while she was studying for her undergraduate. That was one thing that pissed her off with the dead walking about. She worked hard for that diploma, and now it's as useless as the paper it was printed on. Flicking through the pages, she recalled Mason finding this book when they were scavenging at the beginning of the plague. Given how worn it was, he likely read this over and over again, the book proving one of his favourites. She never got much into fantasy. Dragons, princesses, mythical creatures that wandered around in the woods, it never caught her interest, but she was grateful for something to keep her brother's mind of how shit everything was.

"I wish we never left Howe's." Sarah confessed, surprising Charlotte as she looked up from the book, closing it again with a heavy thud from the hardback covers hitting each other. Placing it back by the other's side, she offered a listening ear as Sarah turned her head, resting her cheek against her knees as she carried on sadly. "I don't know why we left. Dad said that we couldn't trust Carver, but… things were better when we were there. After we left, everything got really hard."

"It's not easy surviving on the road, but I think your dad's right. There are some people who you think you can trust, but then they turn, and you're left wondering where everything went wrong." Charlotte explained, leaning further forward on her thighs with her arms crossed over them.

"I don't know why everyone is like that nowadays. Like, even when I'm really angry I don't wanna hurt anyone…" Charlotte wished she could share that sentiment, but she had already done worse to protect the ones she loved. Dylan, Mason, Samantha, she wasn't proud by any means, but she didn't know any other way to get by.

Eyes unwavering as she stared down at her bandaged hand, she tried to make sure Sarah understood what things were like nowadays, hoping that she could help the teenager cope with the hardships of surviving. "Sometimes you don't have a choice, but knowing that there is still a light in someone, something that keeps your humanity, it makes it easier to fight for. Without compassion, all you got is a bunch of assholes fighting for a world that isn't worth living in anymore."

"Have you ever had to hurt anyone?" Sarah asked, curious about the mysterious past of Charlotte's.

"A lot of times. I didn't want to, believe me, but sometimes there was nothing I could do about it. Out there, it's your family or them… and I picked my family." She elaborated, turning her head to peek at Sarah. She was surprised with what Charlotte confessed, her eyes lowering to the duvet while the silence took over once more. Charlotte sighed deeply, leaning back until she was lying down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling with her hands resting on her stomach, rising and falling with each breath she took.

Neither of them said anything for a few minutes, until Sarah finally piped up softly. "What happened to your hand?"

Slowly, she glanced down at her bandaged hand, staring at it as it remained on her stomach, on top of her zipped up jacket, before tilting her head to the curious teen. "Sam bit me."

"The dog?"

"Yeah, he's not very friendly around food. I didn't know, so I picked up his bowl, and he ripped my hand to shreds." She explained, wincing when she tried to move her thumb again. "Still hurts like shit."

"I have a little scar on my hand." Sarah explained, showing her hand to Charlotte as the latter sat up slightly, staring down at the smaller hand being offered to her. Sure enough, she noticed a small scar running along the back of Sarah's hand, starting at the thumb and ending by the knuckle. Retracting her hand, she rested it against the top of her knees as she explained shyly. "My friend's cat bit me."

"Can't stand cats. Judgemental little bastards." Charlotte confessed, earning a giggle from Sarah that the both of them shared. It was nice, sitting there talking about things like what animals they liked and what used to be. Letting another chuckle escape her throat, she carried on with a short story. "We used to have a little mouse catcher on the farm I grew up on. He was a cute lil' guy, but he wasn't very happy is you tried to pet him. I'm pretty sure he was feral to be honest."

"You lived on a farm? That's so cool!" Sarah gasped, obviously happy with the idea of living on a farm, though how much of that was idealised city folk thoughts was Charlotte's guess. It was far from the messing around with animals and riding on horseback through fields. All that she could recall from her childhood was waking up at ridiculous times to help with the feeding of the cattle or mucking out the stables, before being dragged off to school or off fishing with her father during the weekends. There were some good memories, but it was also hard work. Still, she missed it dearly. Her lack of response and grim expression gave Sarah pause, her excitement dying in her voice as she asked quietly. "Are you okay?"

"Hmmm? Yeah, yeah, I'm just… I miss that place." She confessed, sitting back up as she explained quietly. "I wanted to go back one day, when this was all over, but after being gone for so long. I don't know anymore. The walkers would have likely overrun the place. It wouldn't be the home I knew."

"I grew up in Memphis. My dad and I had an apartment right in the city, and then everything went wrong. Maybe we could make our own home one day?" Sarah suggested, sounding hopeful so that Charlotte's spirits were lifted. It wasn't an entirely bad idea. Her own home was gone, but that didn't mean the group couldn't go and find a new home, maybe a farm with walls that could keep the dead out. It sounded nice. That was until she realised that Carlos and his group would be leaving soon, especially if Emma couldn't be saved and had to be mercy killed. Sarah would go with them, and even though she had her friends, she was somewhat saddened that she couldn't share that future with the teenage girl.

Still, she didn't want to ruin the mood, and nodded slowly with a smile. "Yeah, someday…"

It was then that they heard a door slam in the hallway, the sound causing Sarah to flinch and Charlotte to shoot up in a rigid position, sitting on the edge of the bed as she eyed the closed bedroom door. With her curiosity getting the better of her, she stood up, approaching the door and opening it slightly so that she could peek out, wondering what on earth had happened until she saw none other than Nick standing by her bedroom door. His face was grim, one of his hands rubbing his eyes as she felt her chest ache somewhat, knowing what that look entailed. Turning her head around, she softly ordered Sarah. "Stay in here, okay?"

Sarah did what she was told, nodding slowly as Charlotte slipped out of the bedroom and closed the door behind her. Just her and Nick in the hallway. Breathing in to calm her nerves, she slowly made her way towards him, able to maintain her gaze on him as he made no effort to move his hand, rather trying to control himself when she finally called out to him. "Nick… you okay?"

"No, I'm not fucking okay." He snapped, turning around to her with a broken expression on his face. Charlotte let the anger directed at her go, knowing that he was in a bad place right then and to retaliate would help no one, instead offering a listening ear as he added, his voice cracking slightly. "He can't save my mom. The stitching wasn't done properly, something about internal bleeding or some shit… She's gonna die."

"Oh… I'm so sorry." So she and Mason hadn't patched Emma up properly. That was why, even with the antibiotics, her condition just worsened quickly. Her brother did all he could, especially since he was a kid, that repeated itself in Charlotte's mind as she glanced at the closed door, wondering if she should go in to see how Mason was holding up. "If there's anything I can do…"

She couldn't finish her sentence as Nick barged past her, retreating into the bathroom with the door locking, no doubt to have a moment to himself to grieve. Left alone, she sighed to herself, instead opening the door slowly and peeking inside. Carlos was busy cleaning his hands off to the side of the room, while Mason and Pete were by Emma's side, the younger of the two wiping his hands clean of blood. She looked worse for wear, her face drenched in sweat as Charlotte entered the room completely, shutting the door behind her as everyone else realised her presence. Mason said nothing, staring down at Emma as her breathing became more laboured, almost like it was getting to hard to draw air into her lungs. It was heartbreaking to see someone deteriorate that bad in front of her eyes. Quietly, Charlotte rubbed the upper part of her arm nervously. "I just saw Nick in the hallway. He told me."

"It was my fault." Mason replied sadly, pausing with the rag still in his hands as everyone looked at him, Charlotte shocked to hear the regret in his voice. "I fucked up on the stitches. If I didn't mess up, she… I could have saved her."

"Why your group allowed a fourteen year old boy to perform this surgery is beyond me." Carlos scolded, turning to Charlotte as her face turned hard, unappreciative of the judging tone in his voice. "He is only a child. As an adult, it is your job to protect them from this sort of thing."

"None of us knew what we were doing! Maybe I should've taken over what Mason was doing, but I sure woulda made a mess outta it too. He offered, and we had no choice if we wanted to help Emma." She snapped, glancing over to Mason as the boy refused to look at everyone. With the guilt eating away at him and everyone arguing around him, he seemingly couldn't cope and left the room, barging past Charlotte when she tried to stop him. "Mason?"

With him gone, she stood there silently, before turning around to Carlos and asking coldly. "If Sarah was on her own, wouldn't you want her to know how to survive? Like it or not, kids like Mason and Sarah need to know what to do for when we ain't around anymore to protect them!"

"You do not know what she needs!" The sudden anger in his tone caught Charlotte off guard, her eyes widening slightly as she stood there quietly. Pete, having been helping his sister until then, decided to get in between the two arguing adults with some stern words.

"Now is not the time for you two to start tearing chunks out of each other." He explained gruffly, his frown faltering when Emma squeezed his hand momentarily to deal with the pain. Charlotte's anger slipped away instantly, rather staring down at Emma with her arms crossed over her chest and her body starting to lean against the wall.

"Carlos." She started, turning to face the doctor again as she asked the question she was sure no one else wanted to ask. "What're we gonna do? How bad is it?"

"The bullet pierced her pancreas. It should've taken her only hours to die, and honestly I'm surprised that she's still alive, but the infection is untreatable at this stage. There's nothing I can do." He explained, staring down at Pete as he added. "She's in extreme pain. We've no painkillers to give her, and with her odds of survival I wouldn't want to waste any on her. We'll have to put her down."

"Jesus, she's not a dog, Carlos." Pete replied harshly, annoyed by the turn of phrase used by the doctor. Charlotte shared the feeling, but she knew that there was nothing else they could do, and with the last moments of Emma's life being agony, it'd only be inhumane to keep her alive any longer. At least she did what she promised and brought the dying survivor's family back to her. Saying nothing, she allowed Carlos and Pete to continue conversing.

"The only question is who'll do it." The hispanic man revealed.

Almost on cue, Nick's voice called out. "I'll do it."

Turning around, she noticed the grown man standing in the open doorway, staring at the scene with his eyes hidden under the brim of his hat. His shoulders slumped, he looked like it took all his energy to pull himself out of the bathroom, and yet all Charlotte could manage was a look of sympathy as he entered the room, though her head turned when she heard Pete reject Nick's offer. "You don't have to do this, son. I can do-"

"No." Nick interrupted, standing by the side of the bed as he stared down at his mother. Right there in front of him, one of his closest family members was dying while all he could do was stand by and do nothing, the sight reminding Charlotte of what happened back in Texas at the start of all this. Standing there, unable to do anything as her mother laid there bitten, watching as Elizabeth took over and tried to save their mother. That uselessness, that sinking feeling of being only a burden, she wouldn't wish it on anyone, and so she sadly stared at Nick as he continued softly. "She's my mom. I have to do this."

"I…" She started, pulling out the pistol that she had in her pocket and walking slowly towards them. "I have this, if you guys wanna do this."

Nick said nothing, staring down at the weapon in her hand before slowly taking it, turning his back to her as he mumbled. "Thanks."

"We'll give you time to say goodbye." Carlos offered, walking to Charlotte's side as he stared at her, earning a heated glare back from her before he coldly muttered. "A word. When you have the time."

With that, he walked out of the room, giving Nick and Pete the privacy they needed to say their final goodbyes. Charlotte glanced back at them, saying nothing as she too left the room, closing the door behind her while preparing herself for the gunshot to echo, knowing that it wouldn't be long before they had to bury yet another body. Standing in the hallway, she noticed that Carlos was waiting by the bathroom door, eager to have a word with the grown woman after the short spat between them just before. Staring at him, she wasted no time in following him into the only room in the entire cabin where they could have a private discussion, though after his short snap before, she wasn't eager to push those buttons again. Once inside, she leaned against the bathroom sink while Carlos closed the door, keeping his back to her as he growled deeply. "You have no right to tell me how to raise my daughter."

"I wasn't trying anything. You might not wanna hear it Carlos, but it's something we all have to deal with. Christa and Omid have to with Clementine, I have to with my brothers, and you'll have to with Sarah. One day, we aren't gonna be there anymore to help them survive, and they'll have to rely on their own instincts." She explained, trying to keep the peace as she added. "You saw how quickly Emma got to that state. What if one of us ends up like that? What if something happens and suddenly, the kids no longer have a group to protect them? Do you really want Sarah to deal with you not being there anymore on top of surviving in this world?"

"She's not like the others." Carlos explained harshly, turning around to face Charlotte while he continued. "She doesn't understand how bad things really are out there. You may not understand, but if she somehow found out… she'd find it difficult to continue. She'd cease to function."

"'Cease to function'? What does that even mean?"

"It means that not everyone you meet has what it takes to survive on their own. She's my little girl, and I will do what I have to so that she is safe." He snapped, causing Charlotte to shake her head softly until he added. "You may put your brothers in situations like back on the bridge but I will not take advice from people like you."

"That's too fucking far. I love my brothers more than anything in the world, and if I was able to keep them ignorant of what was really happening without it impacting them this bad, I would do it, but that's not how the world works, and one day Sarah is gonna end up paying the price because you never sat her down and taught her what to do when you're gone." She snarled, getting up from her spot at the sink and storming towards the door, grabbing the door knob when she paused and finished the conversation with a glare. "The world isn't like what it used to be, Carlos. I hope that one day you realise that."

With that, she wrenched the door open and left the bathroom, unwilling to entertain another second with the stubborn man. Her brothers' bedroom door was still shut, Sarah likely trying to carry on with her book even with her group in pieces following Emma's approaching death. As soon as she neared the stairs, she nearly jumped down them when she heard a gunshot come from inside her bedroom, having to hold onto the banister while looking over her shoulder sadly. The others came barrelling towards the bottom of the stairs, Omid the first one as he yelled up. "What just happened?!"

Looking back at him, she heard the door open and noticed Nick coming out, a smoking gun still in his hand as she peeked around him, her stomach dropping at the sight of blood splattered up the headboard and Emma's body slumped in the bed, Pete having pulled a cover over her face as a sign of respect to the dead. All the air left her lungs, leaving her chest aching as she gave Nick a look of sympathy that he just ignored, instead glancing down the hallway as Sarah opened her door, standing in the doorway with a shocked expression on her face. Finally, Charlotte glanced back at her group, her voice quiet as she revealed grimly. "She's gone."


	12. New Faces, New Problems

Dinner was quiet. Everyone sitting around, Pete and Carlos having passed food to their own group while Charlotte and her family dug into the catch from yesterday. She knew she shouldn't have let Omid cook tonight, chewing her venison that had become as tough as old boots, though it was tastier compared to eating beans out of a can for the millionth time. Nick was nowhere to be found. After putting his mother down, he just gave Charlotte her gun back and disappeared outside for some space, followed by no one as they gave the poor man time to grieve. Chewing away on her food, she glanced around at the others, wondering if they felt just as awkward as she did as they too carried on eating their meals. Sarah had come down as well, sitting down on the couch next to Carlos and Clementine as she dug into some soup that the others had heated up on the fire.

Occasionally, Clementine glanced around, her bright eyes visible without her baseball cap covering up her upper face, rather hanging on the bannister pole near the bottom of the stairs. Without it, Charlotte could see the wild curls that someone desperately tried to get under control, having cut it too short at some points to get it into the pigtails that poked out at the base of her skull, though how it looked before the dreaded haircut was anyone's guess. The little girl didn't seem to notice Charlotte's glances, both of them looking away when the other looked over. Picking at her food, Charlotte turned her attention to everyone else in the room, watching from her spot near the fire as it continued to rage on, a pot hanging over it with some dregs of soup left behind.

With Omid sitting down beside the chair that Christa had taken, joined by Dylan and Mason, that left a small space on the other side for Pete, who had taken a chair from the kitchen to sit on. They could've spared some of their food, but with the fish traps either empty or catching small fish that could barely feed one person, they had to save all the food they had. She'd have to go hunting again tomorrow. For today, she'd rest and recuperate after the tiring search for the group. It would've been a more relaxing rest if not for the toughened meat that she was forced to swallow down. That was the last time she would put Omid on cooking duty. While she sat there, Omid finally broke the awkward silence that plagued the group and talked to the newcomers. "So, where you guys from?"

"I lived in Spring Hill, with Nick and Emma. Stayed there for a few days when the dead hit before we were taken to a safe zone just outside the city. Damn thing didn't last long." Pete explained, swallowing a mouthful of steaming tomato soup while everyone listened to his story, silent until he carried on with the tale. "After that, we came across a community set up near the border. Carlos and his daughter were there too, and we stuck together ever since."

"Was this community the one Carver ruled over?" Dylan suddenly asked, glaring down at his dinner as he spat the name out like it was venom. The air grew heavy as Charlotte sat there, watching everyone stiffen up or show confusion over the name, with even Clementine looking around from her dinner in apprehension.

Pete paused, his spoon resting on the bowl as he stared down at the teenage boy. Sarah watched him, looking between him and her father as Carlos' face turned grim, taking over from the older man with deflecting the statement. "It doesn't matter who was in charge. We left it."

"That's not a no."

"Didn't your parents teach you it's rude to pry into people's past?" Pete scolded, tucking back into his dinner while Dylan's face darkened. The teen shuffled about, getting himself more comfortable on the hard floor as Mason carried on eating besides, clearly feeling just as awkward as Charlotte herself felt. She knew it was Carver, Emma herself said enough before her tragic end, but at the same time she would not pry into people's business just like she wouldn't want anyone prying into her own. The group would likely leave tomorrow anyway. Their problems were not hers.

"Either way," Pete continued. "We're thinking about moving on, but if it's okay with you guys, we need a day to rest up and get ready."

"Where're you guys planning on going next?" Christa asked, sharing a quick glance with Charlotte before returning her sights to the greyed man.

Pete rubbed his chiseled jaw, leaving his spoon sitting in the warm liquid as he pondered on the question. Even Charlotte had to admit that she was curious, even if they weren't accompanying the group on whatever their journey is. After the weeks spent on the road leading up to North Carolina, she was grateful that she had a bed to sleep in and a river to gather food and water from not too far away. Finally, Pete decided to explain his intentions to the others. "We've had enough of settlements. You never know how the people are until it's too late, but I had a cousin who lived near Pittsburgh. When all this went down, he barricaded himself on his property and stayed there. With any luck, we'll find him and have somewhere to stay for the foreseeable future."

"Still, Pittsburgh is a long way away without a car, and you're gonna hang it all on luck that he's still there _and_ alive?" Charlotte pointed out, not feeling all that well sending the group on their way into another state to search for someone who might not even be alive at that point, given that almost five months had passed since the dead rose up and started eating people.

"Even if he ain't there, his property is. It's the only thing we got." He pointed out, ending the conversation there as he finished up his dinner. Charlotte took the answer, he knew what he was doing. Hopefully. However, Mason and Dylan didn't seem all that convinced with his plan, glancing at each other before the latter shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and carried on with devouring his meat, tearing into the slab with his teeth while his twin appeared thoughtful. Almost like he was gathering the courage to say something that his group would likely not appreciate.

Turns out, Charlotte's suspicions were right as he softly asked them. "Y'all could stay here?"

"What?" Almost everyone said in unison, causing Mason's shoulders to tense up as they all waited for him to explain himself.

"Well," he started, maintaining eye contact with Carlos. "We need a doctor. Christa's baby is coming in a few months, and you guys would have extra numbers to protect yourselves if Carver does come along."

"With the number of people coming across this cabin lately from that settlement, we aren't gonna stay hidden for much longer, and if they find these guys here…" Dylan paused, glaring down at his food while chewing on a bit of venison that he managed to tear off, his cheek bulging humorously like a hamster stuffing its cheeks with food. Slowly looking back up, he looked around the group as his voice took a saddened tone. "Even we might not be able to stay here that much longer."

"We ran into another survivor that apparently came from your community." Charlotte explained, looking over at Pete as the latter's face turned grim, as if he knew what she was going to say from the expression on her own face. Voice softening, she recalled the incident with the gunshot echoing in the back of her mind, unable to shake it off like a bad rash. "There was nothing we could do to help her."

"Shit. Only a few really tried to escape that place, including us. Some of them didn't get far." Pete sighed, standing up with bowl in hand. Walking around the chair, he picked it up with one hand and started making his way back to the kitchen, calling over his shoulder to the others. "Just gonna clean up. We'll talk this more later."

"It's getting pretty late." Charlotte pointed out, looking at the darkened sky through the window above her. The days had gone by quicker as they moved further into winter, having less and less daylight to go out and scavenge for supplies, as well as giving both walkers and other less savoury survivors cover to move about and watch the cabin without any of the group being none the wiser. She hated the dark. With her plate clean and the conversation proving less than welcoming, she stood up and approached Sarah, staring down with a soft smile as she offered. "There's a mattress in the boys' room that you guys can have."

"The boys' room?" Carlos repeated, obviously not pleased with sharing a room with the teenage boys. Dylan said nothing, instead ignoring the annoyance and finishing up his dinner, but Charlotte had no more patience with the tanned hispanic, especially after dealing with him in the bathroom beforehand.

"Yes, the boys' room, because that's the only room we have available if you don't mind sleeping in a bed that your friend just died in." It took a few seconds before she realised what she had said. Carlos' eyes narrowed instantly, glaring heavily at her while everyone else watched with stunned expressions, even Dylan himself losing the sharp edge in his eyes and immediately shared nervous looks with Omid and Mason. Backing off slightly, Charlotte lowered her gaze and quickly left the situation she put herself in, muttering to them as she passed by. "I'm sorry."

No one tried to stop her. Reaching the door leading into the kitchen, she found it open with Pete standing there staring at her. He obviously heard her outburst just then, the look on his face saying all as Charlotte brushed past him, letting the door close behind her as she dropped the plate in the sink before leaning against the counter, arms crossed over each other. Sighing deeply, no words left her mouth as the both of them stood there in silence. The world outside was dark, the trees just black silhouettes hiding away whatever was lurking beyond the foliage. Up above, the skies were a deep navy blue, though black clouds had started gathering once more as snow drifted down to the ground gently, a soft blanket surely gathering strength as the night pressed on.

"I didn't mean to talk about Emma like that." She finally confessed, shattering the fragile silence between them as Pete slowly took a seat at the table. Candles that they had gathered were lit up to show the way around the room, bathing it in a warm glow that served as a beacon amongst the dark forest. She'd have to blow them out soon. Still, she took the time to enjoy the calmness of the surroundings as Pete, contrary to what she assumed, did not take the chance to rip her to shreds for her insensitivity. Instead, when she turned around with a deep frown, she found her gesturing to the chair opposite him at the table, silently asking her to take a seat.

Walking over slowly, only the sound of the chair squeaking as she pulled it across the floor echoing through the air, she sat down in the chair, almost like a scolded child, and waited for Pete to begin the conversation. The flame from the candle in front of her flickered, the light reflected in Pete's eyes as he too stared at it, keeping his voice low as he finally spoke up. "You know Emma once wanted us to visit Canada?"

Charlotte said nothing. Instead, she sat there watching the other survivor with a saddened smile, knowing from the way his eyebrows furrowed and his face turned grim that even talking about the deceased woman was hard. If it was any consolation, he was handling it way better than Charlotte would've. She was in pieces over her family. In all honesty, it was her brothers that pushed her to keep moving, though her own thoughts were interrupted by a low laughter coming from Pete. "We never found the time. Between Nick's father not being there to raise the boy right, and the two jobs she worked to keep food on the table, she never got to see the place. Walk in the forests, see the Northern Lights… it was just a dream for her, but it kept her going. I suppose that's what keeps us going, huh? Dreams."

"It's one of the things that no one can take away. I know that I want somewhere that my family and friends can settle down in, somewhere that no one can force us away from or destroy. I thought my home back in Texas would be that place… but I was wrong." Charlotte paused, leaning forward with her hands locked together in front of her face. "Let's hope that this cabin can be that place."

"It's a good place to call home. You said you came from Texas?" He asked, earning a nod from Charlotte before he whistled. "You're a long way from home. What're you doing all the way up here?"

"Wanted a change of scenery." She joked dryly, earning a chuckle from Pete as the both of them smiled slightly. Feeling better over her outburst, she glanced away momentarily, hearing the back door behind them open suddenly. Body tense, she spun around with widened eyes, her heart stopping and her hand ghosting over the pocket in her jacket where she put her gun. Pausing when she saw that the person coming in was not a threat, instead being only Nick coming in from having a moment to himself, she lowered her hand and sat back down, staring up at him as he stared back.

"How're you doing, Nick?" She asked softly, leaning against the back of her chair. Nick stood there silently, watching the both of them with piercing blue eyes underneath the brim of his hat, before ignoring her question and walking off into the living room. The door slowly closed behind him, a soft noise echoing for a brief moment when it finally closed shut. Charlotte didn't hold it against him, rather staring at the door briefly while Pete piped up.

"Don't take it personally. Nick's always been the type of boy to keep things to himself. When things get tough, he lashes out, just like his father."

"I take it you don't think too highly of his dad." She replied, leaning back on her chair with the front legs dangling above the floor. With her question causing him to scowl, she could tell what the answer was going to be, bracing herself for the angered words as the old man shook his head.

"He was never there, and he was a piece of shit when he was. Last time he visited Nick was when he was eighteen years old and just finished high school. Came to the party Emma had been planning for months drunk, tried to get into a fight with her and Nick, before I put him on his ass." While it was funny picturing Pete beating someone in a brawl, Charlotte refrained from laughing at the obviously not funny story, instead listening patiently while he finished the tale. "Never saw him again. Even when all this started, he didn't bother coming to see if his wife or son was alright. Don't even know where he is now… and I don't care, but secretly, I think Nick does."

"Considering he just lost his mom, it's no surprise he'd think about his other parent. That said, I think he's lucky to have someone like you, someone to keep him grounded in all this." She pointed out, offering a small smile in hopes that it would lift the other's spirits. However, her words seemed to had the opposite effect on Pete, his face turning thoughtful as he kept silent, saying nothing when her smile disappeared and was instead replaced with a worried look.

Before she could say anything, Pete stood up from his chair, a unbearable squeaking noise coming from it as it dragged along the floor before stopping suddenly, and simply offered in a low tone. "I'll take first watch. We should put out these candles too, we're lit up like a damn beacon out here."

"Erm… Yeah, I'll get onto that." Charlotte slowly muttered, wondering what she said wrong as she grabbed the candle on the table. Lifting it to her lips, she blew out the flame softly, watching it go out in an instant while Pete took care of the candles that were scattered across the entire room. One by one, the room plunged into darkness, with not even the moonlight being able to pierce through the thick cover of clouds in the sky. As soon as the last candle was extinguished, Pete took his spot by the windows, watching their surroundings around the cabin with an unwavering stare.

The conversation died there. Placing the candle back on the table, she decided to leave him alone and went back into the living room, closing the kitchen door behind her as she walked through the front hallway of the cabin. Along the way, she blew out the candles littered around the space, finding that Christa had retired to her bedroom with the door slightly open, keeping an ear out for Clementine and Omid as they had set up a board game on the coffee table in the living room. Dylan and Mason sat around it with them, joining in the game as they talked in hushed whispers and quiet laughter at one of Omid's terrible jokes. Clementine glanced up when she noticed Charlotte coming through, blowing out each candle before her face turned from controlled peacefulness to confusion.

Putting down another candle that was still smoking, the older woman turned to the small group and explained softly. "Lights out now. You guys can still play your game, but I'm afraid it's in the dark from now on."

"Can we please keep this one on?" Clementine asked, staring up with those big, round eyes that almost always got to Charlotte in the end. A groan escaped her throat, the Texan running a hand through her hair, trying to get through the knots in the wild style as well, before she finally conceded, nodding slowly as she left the single candle left burning on the table. With the fire place still roaring away behind them, one small light wouldn't hurt.

"Where's Carlos and Sarah?" She asked, walking around and blowing out the other candles instead. Omid paused the game, looking over his shoulder as she walked behind the couch, before pointing upstairs with his finger.

"Sarah was pretty tired after today, so Carlos took her to bed. They have your bed tonight." There was a pause, Charlotte stopping in what she was doing as she grimaced slightly, wondering what it would've been like if she had to sleep in the same bed that her friend had died in. Her words before certainly didn't help the situation. Stuck in her thoughts, she listened as Omid pointed out. "At least they could bury her."

That was true. After Nick had ran off, it was her, Pete and Carlos that helped bury the deceased woman in the backyard, leaving only a handmade cross made from sticks stuck in the ground to indicate that someone was actually there. It was horrible, seeing the pale and lifeless face up close, a bullet wound to the forehead with blood having dried to her skin, yet some still ran down and dripped onto the ground. Hopefully Carlos wiped down the headboard of her bed before putting Sarah to bed. Dylan suddenly spoke up, moving his piece on the board as he pointed out. "We saw Nick come in just then. I said he could have the mattress in our room for tonight, if that's alright with you?"

"Yeah. Guess it's the couch for me again." She sighed, not really looking forward to another night on the uncomfortable and stiff couch. Still, she was pleased that Dylan offered up the mattress to Nick, knowing that he was having a hard time at the moment, though she kept that praise to herself and instead flashing her brother a warm smile. "Good thing to do though, bud."

"Yeah, well, I thought he might as well, considering they'd be leaving tomorrow anyway." He replied, sounding almost sad that the group was leaving. However, there was something else hidden deep in those eyes, something that the teen didn't want his older sibling to see as he tried to change the subject. "You wanna play with us?"

With the last of the candles blown out, she decided to indulge the group, finding that the candles in the downstairs bedroom had been blown out to give Christa some peace to sleep. Approaching the table, she stared down at the board, raising an eyebrow when she recognised it in the warm glow of the single candle left. "Monopoly? I haven't played this in years."

"We found it in the cupboard before, along with loads of other games too." Mason smiled, moving from Omid's side so that Charlotte could sit down. With her legs crossed over each other, she leaned back against the couch comfortably, staring down at the board as she grabbed the box that was left on Omid's lap.

"I'll be banker this round." She stated, putting the box on her lap as Omid pretended to be offended.

"I was doing just fine as a banker."

"You were sneaking money into your hand just for rolling the dice." Dylan pointed out, taking the dice from the board and shaking them in his hand, rattling them around before rolling them out on the board again. With the dice showing the amount of spaces he could move, he picked his dog figurine and tapped it along the spaces on the board, counting silently in his head while adding with a smirk. "And you would miscount the spaces so you didn't have to pay Clementine rent."

"You cheated!" The little girl accused, narrowing her eyes at Omid as he shot back.

"You took my red properties! I called dibs!"

"I'm pretty sure that's not a thing." Charlotte replied with a smirk playing at her lips, sitting there with the box full of money and unbought property cards. With everyone ganging up on him, Omid conceded defeat and allowed her to carry on as banker, instead enjoying the game as the turns went around the group. It was nice, just sitting there while everyone joked and laughed, even when Dylan couldn't get his last train thanks to Clementine, who ended up extorting him for the last orange that he took from under her nose. The child was really cut throat with this game.

It was Omid who was picked off first, after rolling a bad number and ending up landing on Dylan's train station with only fifty dollars to his name. Giving the rest of his money, and all his mortgaged properties, he was forced to sit out and watch as the kids carried on with the game. Out of all the people, it was Clementine who had started tightening her hold on the properties left on the board, managing to get the last green card before Mason could get it, stopping him from buying houses and earning his money back. It was surprising seeing the usually quiet and reserved girl actually letting loose and having fun, Charlotte feeling a warmth spreading through her chest when she caught a slight smile on the little girl's lips as she took another due rent from Dylan for landing on her orange property. It was almost enough to hide the painfulness of watching her brothers losing so badly to a nine year old child.

Eventually though, the mood came down again as Clementine asked quietly. "What're we gonna do with the man?"

"Hmm? What man, darling?" Charlotte asked, looking down at the child survivor. Looking down for a moment, she could still see the other's face without her favourite baseball cap hiding it away. Slowly, Clementine lifted her gaze again, managing to keep eye contact with Charlotte as she replied, voice so low that it came out more like a whisper than anything else.

"Carver." Everyone fell silent at that name. Even Omid couldn't say anything to lighten up the mood as the name on everyone's thoughts was thrown into the open, including Clementine's fear of what will happen. It was a surprise, given what she'd gone through even before she met Charlotte, but that didn't help the group as no one had the answer. Dylan kept quiet, staring at the board with blank eyes, and even Charlotte herself was torn on what to say to comfort the girl. Even with the group leaving tomorrow, what was going to stop Carver from coming across their cabin and hurting them? Especially given how Pete and his group reacted to his name and the reasons they fled safety and food because of him, it wasn't painting Carver in a good light.

"We could always go with Pete and his group." Dylan pointed out, earning looks from the others before he went on to explain in more detail. "They'd know what to look out for, and we could use a doctor, even if I don't like him. Besides, we aren't exactly the biggest group to defend the cabin if Carver comes knocking around."

"We can't just up and run away from this." Mason chided, showing some of the annoyance that was likely bubbling down deep inside him. "What happens if we find someone who wants to hurt us at Pete's cousin's place? Do we just get up and leave again? I don't want to leave this place, and I don't wanna keep running. I thought we were done with all that after…"

He paused, saddened with the words that we about to leave his mouth. Air was trapped in Charlotte's lungs, finding it hard to breathe with her little brother almost throwing everything up into the air in front of Omid and Clementine, exposing their previous group as people who they were running away from. If they found out that, then there'd be more questions over what their old friends were like, and sooner or later, the truth over Charlotte's past would come to light. She didn't want to risk losing people that she was growing to care about. Thankfully, neither Omid or Clementine pressed further, rather listening as Charlotte consoled them all. "Look, we don't know what the future has for us. We don't know what'll happen tomorrow, or the day after that, or the day after that. All I'm certain about is that we'll face it together."

"You think that we can defend ourselves against Carver?" Dylan asked quietly, looking down at the table with that more vulnerable, scared kid side showing up after so many attempts to appear as a toughened survivor.

"I don't know. I ain't gonna lie to y'all, one day you're gonna have to have problems that make you scared, and there's nothing wrong with being scared, but you can't let it dictate how you live your life. The world will take any pushovers and it will chew you up and spit you out without a care or a thought." She replied, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear as she added. "It don't care if you're kids, or old, or a girl or a boy, if you're healthy or if you're not. It won't give two shits if you never hurt someone in your life or if you're a complete monster. It just takes, so y'all can't give it up without a fight."

They appeared thoughtful after her small speech. Dylan and Mason glanced at each other, and for once in a long time, it seemed like they were looking at each other like siblings rather than survivors, realising that they were all they had left in the world besides her. Slowly, Charlotte turned her gaze to the single candle that was flickering away, the small flame dancing around softly as she muttered. "I say we stay here. Even if Carver comes knocking on our door, we don't have to get involved in this business. Help those that need it, keep outta things that don't concern us, that's how I'd like to survive."

"I can get behind that. Even though it didn't end like we wanted, I'm glad that we helped Emma and her group reunite. I can't imagine what it'd be like if you guys refused to go into that forest yesterday." Omid grimaced, obviously concerned with the potential ending if Charlotte and Dylan hadn't gone out during the storm. Charlotte didn't like thinking about it, unable to stomach the thought of Emma being torn apart by those walkers that she found chasing after the woman, or worse, her managing to escape the dead only to be shot dead by Carver's soldiers.

"Dylan?" Clementine suddenly piped up, grabbing the teen's attention as he glanced over to her. All of them waited, wondering if it was something important that she needed, until she pointed down to the board and revealed in a matter of fact way. "You landed on my hotel. That's nine hundred dollars, please."

"...What?" The group erupted into laughter at that. Begrudgingly, Dylan forked over the money that he had gathered up from forcing both Clementine and Mason to pay whenever they landed on his properties, a small smile on his face easily hidden to everyone besides Charlotte, who spotted it before he returned to his usual stoic expression. That minor slip up caused her to relax somewhat, wondering if he put on that stoic, 'badass' expression to be some sort of awesome apocalypse survivor for Clementine, almost like a role model of some sort. Too bad that was the last thing the poor girl needed at the moment, and seeing as both she and Dylan joked around with their game made her think about whether what she had was enough at the moment.

She refused to leave this behind just because the group was thrown into a problem that didn't concern them.

They carried on until Clementine drove the twins to bankruptcy, taking all their properties and winning the game with a smile on her face and a gleam in her amber eyes. Mason conceded, congratulating her, while Dylan kept up his rivalry and demanded another game to regain his honour, joking around in an over the top dramatic villain's voice that could beat Omid's skills. After sharing a few stories and laughs, Charlotte joined in the next game while Mason took over as banker, having fun with the little car figurine that she recalled her father always wanting to be. Monopoly was a marriage destroying game as far as her childhood was concerned. Still, she enjoyed getting back into it, even if she was still somewhat new to the game.

After what felt like an hour passed, she grinned at Dylan and confidently revealed. "You owe me twenty one dollars."

"What?" He blinked, staring at her with a dumbfounded expression that wained her confidence. Still, she kept to her guns, waiting for the money to be handed over while Dylan glanced down at the board, staring down at her property which his little dog had landed on, before he slowly pointed out something. "Your property I landed on, the one with three houses on it… costs twenty one dollars."

"Yeah, it says so on this lil' card here." She mumbled, passing the card over to Dylan to let him have a look. Eyes scanning the numbers printed on the card, he only took a few moments to read it before looking back up at his sister and passing back the card.

"That's for rent without anything on the property." He elaborated, taking a moment to think of something with raised eyebrows before he suddenly added. "Charlie, have you been undercharging everyone this entire game?"

She didn't reply. Staring down at her card, she realised that the amount she had been charging was drastically under the amount that she was entitled to, refusing to look at anyone as she grumbled to herself. "...Oops."

"Well, Charlie's been undercharging everyone, Mason slipped Clementine a hundred dollar bill for a gummy bear, Omid's half asleep and I chose this over reading my comic books in bed." Dylan summed up, shaking his head with a smile as the group finished up the game. Managing to stir Omid out of his half sleeping state, they ended up calling it a night with everyone packing the things away, Charlotte picking up all the cards and shoving them back in the box with the loose bills while Mason tackled folding up the impossible to fold board. Eventually he succeeded, pushing it down on top of everything else before they closed the lid down on it, finishing tidying up just in time for Clementine to start to feel the tiredness wrack her small frame.

Yawning into her small hand, which had balled up into a fist, Clementine said nothing as Omid plucked her from the ground and carried her lovingly, like a father would do with his own child, before bidding goodnight to the others as they carried on clearing everything up. "Night, guys."

"Night, Omid. Night, Clem." Charlotte called back, picking up the plates that were left on the couch while the group were setting up their game beforehand. Stacking them on top of each other, the clinking of porcelain dishes an annoying sound in her ears, she passed them to Mason to take into the kitchen, knowing that someone will be put on washing up duty when the other returned with water from the river tomorrow. With Dylan shoving the box underneath the table to deal with later, she opened the closet near the staircase, pulling out the blanket that she thought she'd never have to deal with again, before shutting the door again with a deep sigh.

The couch was one of the worst places to sleep, but at least she wasn't like Sam, having to sleep outside in the shed with the weather worsening. Maybe one day he could come in and curl next to the fire with them, but until the others were comfortable enough with him being around, poor Sam would have to deal with sleeping on the porch or the shed. At least his long fur helped in keeping the cold at bay, and he was protected from the snow that continued to fall outside the window. Watching the white flakes dropping down in a serene way, she found herself entranced with how winter looked, finding it almost impossible to look away from the sheer beauty, especially since she never had snow growing up in Texas. Seeing it just outside her door was breathtaking. Still, she was exhausted as well, and had another day of fishtrap checking, water gathering and renovations to carry on, as well as hunting again with their food supplies getting low.

Blanket in hand, she ignored the winter wonderland going on outside the window and made the couch up enough that she could try and get some sleep on it. The cushions left there were small and awkward, with a few having to be gathered together to get any kind of pillow big enough for her to comfortably sleep on, and when she laid down on the couch stretched out, she found her feet dangling off the other end uncomfortably, having to scrunch her body up with a deep groan. Dylan watched with much amusement, which she didn't appreciate given that he had a lovely bed to go to for the night, with actual pillows and a soft mattress that he could sink into, even if he had to share the room with Mason and Nick. Pulling the blanket over her to keep herself warm, she stared up at Dylan as he approached the couch, hovering his upper body over her head as he hugged her goodnight. "See ya in the morning, Charlie."

"Sleep tight, buddy." She mumbled, yawning to herself as she spotted Mason coming back out of the kitchen, making his way over to the staircase as she called out to him. "Night, Mason."

"Goodnight, Charlie." He mumbled, rubbing his eyes as it was clear that he was just as ready for bed as everyone else. Closing her eyes, she listened to the _thud, thud, thud_ of her brothers' feet walking up the stairs, trying to keep quiet even when the old rickety steps squeaking under their weight. Listening carefully, she could tell where they were upstairs, up until she heard the door open and close as they likely went into their bedroom, leaving her alone to sleep the night away.

Her neck was uncomfortably bent from where she tried to make the pillow out of tiny cushions, her legs already aching from where she had to keep them all bunched up, her feet tucked under the blanket in an attempt to keep her whole body warm. The fire kept burning, but without anyone to keep adding fuel the flames grew smaller and smaller, the light from the fire getting dimmer until it barely got out of the fireplace, casting everything in darkness. Eventually, the candle left burning had extinguished itself, sitting in a pool of melted wax with the wick burnt all the way through. All was quiet. Even with Pete sitting in the next room, it was almost like he wasn't there. Charlotte only knew he was actually there when he came back into the living room, hearing his footsteps echoing through the empty space as he neared the fireplace, and soon enough the sound of wood hitting each other joined in the noise.

A woosh of fire, and she could feel warmth come back into the air around the fire, opening her eyes slightly to see that Pete had added some more logs to keep the fire going. The cold of outside kept at bay, he returned to his watch, either ignoring or not noticing that Charlotte had woken up again and leaving her to fall back asleep. So, she closed her eyes again and tried to catch a few hours before sunrise. It wasn't long before she drifted off to deep sleep. Yet, just like she did for countless weeks and months before, she didn't enjoy the sleep she had when it was ravaged by relentless nightmares. Replaying past events with frightful accuracy, she relived every painful and terrifying moment that she would've given anything to forget. Gunshots, screams of pain and fear, even begging to spare their life, it all echoed around her as she begged it to stop, shoving hands over her ears in a desperate attempt to block out the noises. It never worked.

So, she tried to run. That's what she did whenever things got tough, even though she told the kids before that you shouldn't run from your problems. She was a hypocrite, the thoughts in her head taunted her with, attacking every sensitive point that she tried to keep close to her chest. A hypocrite, a thief, a liar. She didn't know what she was doing or how to lead a group, she didn't know how to take care of her brothers or her friends, and sooner or later, she'd end up alone because of her incompetence. Charlotte tried to help Emma and she died. She tried to run away from her group with Samantha and she died. She couldn't even save her parents or her sister, standing there uselessly as everyone around her were picked off one by one. Pursued relentlessly by her own thoughts, how could she escape them? How could she avoid what was going on inside her own head?

Suddenly, she sat upright, or at least as best as she could given a sudden weight on her chest, constricting her ability to breathe as she panicked, trying to shove the object on top of her until it rolled down to her legs, letting her finally sit up and gasp for breath. Glancing down at her hands, she held onto one of them to stop it from shaking, trying to get the shakes under control before turning her attention to what had decided to sleep on top of her. Much to her surprise, two big beady eyes stared back at her, a tongue licking its lips anxiously as a low whine came from the creature. With the fire providing light behind her, she saw that it was none other than Sam who had made himself comfortable on the couch with her, just as scrunched up as she was with his tail wagging softly. Slowly, she rubbed the top of his head and muttered tiredly. "What're you doing in here, boy?"

He licked his lips again with another whine coming from his throat, before the animal shuffled further up the couch and shoved his muzzle under her chin. Likely trying to comfort her, she laid back down with Sam lying on top of her, slipping into the trench between her and the couch as she rolled onto her side, allowing Sam to rest his head on her side as the both of them tried to get some more sleep. Charlotte felt wide awake however, feeling her heart still hammering away in her chest while her eyes stayed wide open, staring at the outline of the staircase in the darkness. All she felt was the rise and fall of Sam's chest on her back, the feeling of his nails, overgrown without anyone around to maintain them, digging into her flesh even with the blanket over her, and a warm breath on her exposed hand that she left near his face.

It was awkward and somewhat painful to sleep like that, but she found comfort in having someone with her while she slept, and it seemed that Sam had calmed down with her no longer panicking over her nightmares. The both of the remained like that, Sam eventually snoring softly with small barking noises as he dreamt about whatever it was that dogs dreamt about. Charlotte, however, was finding it harder to go back to sleep, trying everyone from closing her eyes and wishing to counting sheep in her head. Nothing worked. Soon enough, she managed to grab a few moments of blissful sleep, before she'd panic and wake up again, ready to move if there was a danger in the room with her. Every time she did this, every time she was greeted with nothing but darkness and Sam comforting her by licking her ear, only going back to sleep when he knew that she would be alright.

No luck. After what felt like a couple of hours passing with on and off periods of sleep, she gave up entirely and gets up off the couch, letting Sam stay where he was as he raised his head in confusion, watching her making her way over to the kitchen before lying back down and going to sleep once more. Leaving him be, she pushed through the door into the other room before pausing. Having expected Pete to still be sitting by the back door with his gun, she was surprised to find that Nick had replaced him instead, sitting down on a chair with his gun propped up against the leg of the chair. Noticing her coming in, he said nothing as she stood there. It was awkward, but she was determined to break the silence between them as she spoke softly. "I didn't think you'd be up."

"Uncle Pete needed a few hours to rest. We'll be switching again later." He explained, not once looking at Charlotte as he instead watched the snow falling down heavily out the window. Charlotte was curious as well, walking over to the window before peering out silently, stunned to see how heavy the snowfall that gotten compared to before. The ground was completely covered in snow, showing none of the footprints that were imprinted into it before. From behind her, she heard Nick add. "I'd get away from the window. You never know if someone is watching out there."

She moved away as he asked. Keeping away from the window, she instead took a seat near the grown man, sitting down while he suddenly growled. "What do you want?"

"Can't sleep. Sometimes it's nice to have someone with you, especially during hard times." Her voice dropped at the end of that sentence, but Nick knew what she was referring to. He looked away, staring down at the floor with a hardened look in those eyes. Charlotte kept quiet after that, unsure what to say while avoiding offending the grieving man. Eventually, she tried to change the subject instead, and piped up with a strained smile. "So, I like your hat. It's… cute."

Cute. Out of all the words she could've used, she used cute. To her defense, Nick didn't seem all that fussed over the word she used to describe his hat, instead replying dryly. "Thanks."

"It's getting pretty cold, huh?" She carried on, desperately clutching to any topic she can think of to stop the conversation from turning awkward, carrying on rambling. "I don't envy anyone who has to walk in this weather. Still, it's very pretty to look at. When I was living in Texas, we never got no snow down there, so it's a pretty new concept to m-"

"Why'd you try to find me?" Nick suddenly interrupted, his voice low and pained as he continued to stare at the ground. Charlotte stopped her rambling, staring at him with her forced smile finally fading away, showing the empathy that she felt for his loss on her tired face, and offered a listening ear as he continued his rant. "Back on the bridge. You were obviously looking for us, I heard you while we were hiding. You don't know me, and you didn't really know my mom, so why? Why risk yourself for a stranger you didn't even know?"

"I didn't want Emma's last moments to be alone. No one should have to through that, and I thought it was the right thing to do."

"Well, that was stupid. Didn't matter if I was there or not. She still died." Nick grumbled, finally meeting Charlotte's gaze as he added. "Just like everyone else I knew. Soon enough, it'll be our turn."

"Maybe. Everyone dies sooner or later, Nick, but I know that I want my time here to be with people I know and love, and that's what your mom wanted. I'm sorry we couldn't save her, but that doesn't mean me going and finding you and the others was stupid or meaningless." She sighed, twirling a lock of her dark hair around her finger anxiously. She knew he was still pretty fucked up over his mother's death, but she didn't knew he had gone this deep into a depressive state. Even when he would leave the cabin and Emma's grave behind, she highly doubted he would be able to get over the feelings inside him over the people he lost. Hell, after months of being without her own parents, she still felt that sting when she remembered them, recalled their kind words and her father's hearty laugh whenever they joked around.

It was hard. Still, Nick seemed somewhat subdued with her explanation, if only a little. After minutes of them just sitting there in silence, he breathed in deeply and replied in a low mutter. "I had to shoot her."

Charlotte said nothing in response. She knew what he had to do, she was the one who gave him the gun, but listening as he recollected the moment where he actually pulled the trigger, she felt sorry for him. Even when he refused to look or talk to her, and was short and snappy when he finally did, she couldn't bring herself to actually be angry at him. So, she listened instead as he scoffed softly. "That sounds weird when I say it out loud, huh? Everyone can just keep going after going through something like that, but for some reason, I can't. I'm not built like that."

"I don't know what to say to help but… you ain't alone with that. When I lost my parents, I was a fucking mess. If it's any consolation, you're not lying on the floor crying your eyes out, so you have that one over me." She pointed out, giving him a little smile in hopes that he would feel at least somewhat better.

Much to her relief, a small chuckle came from Nick at that, though any happiness she managed to get out of him quickly dissipated as his depression took over again. His voice was a low tone, never raising either out of fear that he'd wake someone up, or because he just didn't have the energy anymore to even speak up. "I couldn't even bury her. I just ran off, like a coward, and left Uncle Pete to do it instead. I always do this."

"I don't think he'll hold that over you. It was the grief, it makes people do stupid things without thinking it through." With her hair still twirled around her finger, she paused for a moment before adding. "But I've bothered you enough for tonight. I'm gonna try and catch some more sleep before morning."

"Yeah." He muttered, saying no more as Charlotte got up from her seat and moved towards the door. Pausing there for a moment, hand pressed up against the cold wood, she glanced over her shoulder at Nick, watching as he sat there unmoving from his spot by the table, and then walked through the door. At least he had his uncle and Carlos there with him when the group would leave, she was certain he would get better given time. Either way, he'd properly be gone by the time she woke up, along with the rest of her group, so she couldn't worry too much over a stranger.

Stifling a yawn with the back of her hand, she pushed Sam down to the end of the couch, ignoring his looks as she crawled under the blanket and tried to catch some more sleep. The weight at her feet shuffled upwards, starting with her legs before growing up to her hip, and then her side. Without looking down to see what Sam was doing, she was greeted with hot, gross dog breath being blown in her face, her eyes scrunching up and her hand plugging her nose to help keep the stench at bay. What had this dog been eating? Whatever it was, it stunk to high heaven, causing Charlotte to try and push Sam's head to lie over her hip and facing away from her, keeping her face buried in the back of the couch to get away from the smell. He obeyed, or at least as much as it was comfortable for him, lying his head along her side with his muzzle pushing into her armpit, forcing her arm to go over him.

This wasn't going to work.

It was a while of moving about, making weird possibly inhumane shapes with her body, but eventually she couldn't handle the dog on the couch with her and shoved him off roughly, the quiet air disturbed by the heavy thud that was Sam hitting the floor. After a few moments of contemplation, he huffed loudly and instead hopped up on the chair beside the couch, curling up with his tail covering most of his face away. From underneath her blanket, she glared at the dog for causing so much ruckus when he could've simply gone over to the chair to sleep. Still, she missed the warmth on her hip, the weight of Sam providing a comfort that she sorely needed. At least he was just beside her in the room. With the extra room on the couch, she stretched out some more, poking her boots slightly from underneath the blanket, protected from the cold air that circulated throughout the entire cabin.

Rather than nightmares plaguing her again, she was comforted enough that her dreams were just blank. Endless darkness as she laid there, unaware of what was happening around her as her body got the rest it desperately needed. Even though the couch was uncomfortable and cramped for her, she wasn't disturbed by anything as she thought about the day's events, feeling a pange of sadness over Emma no longer being there. While she didn't know the woman long enough, it was nice having a new face around, even if most of that time spent with the group was one of agony and death lurking nearby. At least she could rest in peace.

A bang. Loud yells of agony echoed through the air, and at first Charlotte braced herself for another nightmare of the night, but something was wrong. Her eyes shot open, glancing around frantically as her body moved on its own, the blanket flying off the couch when she got up to her feet. Heart pounding away, thoughts rushing around with millions of scenarios, she ran past Christa and Omid when they burst out of their room to see what was going on, ignoring Clementine when her voice called out from in the bedroom. "What happened?!"

She sounded terrified, and with the heavy footsteps coming down the stairs, it's likely that everyone else in the cabin had heard the gunshot as well. Dylan's voice called out, but with her heart pounding away and blood rushing through her ears, it was too hard to figure out what the teenager had said. Her hand rummaged around in her jacket pocket, pulling her pistol out just as she pushed through the kitchen door to try and follow the groans of pain. Unable to stop the fear from getting to her, she silently begged that no one in her group was hurt badly. No one was in the kitchen.

Confused as to where Nick was, she recalled his words last night about swapping with Pete, wondering where the older survivor was as she ran towards the back door. It was slightly ajar, like someone had opened it and forgot to close it, or someone was in the cabin with the group. Gulping loudly, she wrenched the door open and pointed her gun outside, ready to fire on any intruder that had come across the cabin, but what she found just a few feet away from the cabin made her heart stop. The intruder, whoever they were, had Pete down on the ground with their gun pointed at him, ready to pull the trigger when Charlotte aimed hers at them. Without giving them a second to comply, she didn't hesitate to pull the trigger, the pistol recoiling in her hands as another loud bang echoed through the still winter morning. Birds that had roosted in the trees were frightened off by the noise, small black silhouettes coming out of the pine trees with loud squawks of protest, fleeing to somewhere that was safer for them to settle back down.

Breathing heavily, she stood there frozen still as the intruder paused, loud gurgling coming from their covered mouth as, finally, they stumbled backwards with the gun dropping down to the ground. Pete, taking the chance, pulled his body over to the gun and grabbed it the dropped gun, aiming it at the intruder as Charlotte finally realised where she actually shot them. Blood dripped down onto the snow, dying it a deep red as she stared at the growing patch on their neck, their hand trying to stop the bleeding while they stumbled about. After a few moment of silence, with just the disgusting sounds coming from the unknown survivor, they finally dropped down to the floor and laid there still, their face falling to the side as no more sound came from the body.

Lowering the smoking gun, she sighed deeply, pocketing the gun and staring at the scene before noticing Pete struggling to get up, his leg sitting in a small pool of his own blood. Stunned over how hurt he was, she was too slow to get to his side when someone else barged past her, colliding with her shoulder and almost sending her flying into the snow before she managed to correct herself. None other than Nick rushed to his uncle's side, unable to take his eyes off the wound to Pete's leg while Carlos quickly appeared. Charlotte stood there silently, her mind still reeling over what had happened, unanswered questions floating about in her thoughts until she felt someone grab onto her jacket sleeve, snapping her out of her thoughts. Looking down, she saw Mason standing next to her.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, alluding to the blank expression she had on her face as her mind tried to fight through the shock she suffered. She didn't know what to say, unable to shake off the feeling that Pete could've died if she didn't come out when she did, and after the group just lost Emma as well. It wasn't a great feeling.

Carlos checked the leg, trying to see if Pete could stand up on it before helping him up, guiding the injured man back inside as Charlotte hear him grumble. "Come on, I'll check out your leg properly once we're inside."

"Ah, shit." Pete cursed, biting back a hiss of pain at being forced to walk after being shot in the leg. Passing by Charlotte, she turned her head as they passed, only offering a saddened frown when the injured man nodded his head gratefully. "Thanks."

She didn't reply. Instead, while Carlos and the others were helping Pete inside to get looked over, she approached the body with a slow walk, the snow crunching under her feet loudly and the wind blowing cold air from the mountains to the north. Once she reached the still bleeding corpse, she kneeled down, pushing the person onto their back and lowering the face mask they were wearing, her hand pausing as she noticed it shaking terribly. Grabbing her wrist with her other hand, she tried to calm herself down, breathing slowly before exhaling it, closing her eyes briefly before trusting herself to carry on. She didn't know how young the person was, her lungs stilling when she stared down at the youthful face that was staring up blankly at the sky. Glossed over eyes that were slowly closed, she didn't move when she heard someone walk up behind her, listening to the familiar, deep voice as Nick pointed out solemnly. "I knew him."

"Huh?" She replied, turning her head to face him and asking him softly. "Was he from Howe's too?"

"...Yeah. He used to be one of the scouts, always outside the community finding supplies and people needing somewhere to live. He was the one who found me, Uncle Pete and mom." Nick explained, unmoving when Charlotte stood up again. While he recalled in what sounded like a saddened, almost wishful thinking, tone, his face was angered with eyebrows furrowing deeply. "Fuck. I'm gonna check on Uncle Pete."

He turned on his foot and went back inside, dodging past the kids as they remained near the door. Charlotte watched him go, staring at Dylan with a worried expression before groaning caught her attention again. Turning her head, she realised that the deceased survivor was no longer dead, his eyes clouded over and his jaw clenching slightly while he tried to get back to his feet, only managing to raise his head before Charlotte's thick winter foot came down hard on his face. Stomping multiple times, she grunted loudly in exertion, feeling the face underneath give way under the force, more blood staining the snow until she backed away, staring down at the stilled body with fog misting up in front of her face, the freezing cold air feeling like thousands of tiny daggers ripping her lungs to shreds. At least he wouldn't come back.

While she felt somewhat better after venting her frustrations on the freshly turned walker, her worries returned worse when she saw Clementine and Mason staring at the killed walker with widened eyes, all while Dylan was watching with a grim expression on his face, obviously not happy with the situation in the group. Without saying a word, he went back into cabin. Charlotte tried to approach the others left behind, but Mason, glancing down and seeing Clementine tensing up, just placed a hand on her shoulder and guided the child back inside, out of the snow and cold. There, she was left all alone, with only a body behind her. She couldn't remain there long, the freezing temperatures was playing havoc on her exhausted body, and so, she followed after everyone back into the cabin.

Shutting the back door behind her, she heard hushed whispers coming from the living room, unable to figure out what was being said from where she stood. Her shoe, covered in blood from the walker, left footprints behind as she made her way into the living room, keeping an ear out for what her group was discussing about. Pushing through the kitchen door, she paused at the corner of the staircase, leaning against the wall while looking at the group gathered around looking pretty dark and solemn. With Pete lying on the couch, Carlos was kneeling beside it, rotating the lower leg to see how bad the wound was. Seeing the round hole where the bullet likely pierced through, Charlotte winced as Carlos started to disinfect it and patch it up, wrapping the wound up in bandages while Christa sighed. "Those gunshots are gonna attract every walker in a five mile radius. Not to mention any other of Carver's people that were with that guy."

"So much for settling down here." Dylan growled, his eyes narrow and piercing with his face stuck in a permanent scowl. Charlotte, for one, shared the sentiment, annoyed and frustrated that as soon as they find something good for them, people come along and wreck everything. "If they come across here and find their dead buddy, it's gonna be a shitstorm for us. We don't have the weapons or the manpower to protect ourselves if he sends more people after you guys."

"That is exactly what Carver will do. He's a smart but dangerous man, and he's not one to give up on something he wants." Carlos explained, wrapping Pete's leg up as he paused, turning to the others while continuing gruffly. "I do not want other people caught in this matter, but you people are not safe here. Not anymore."

"You and your group can just leave. Carver won't bother us if we don't have what he wants." Christa snapped.

Charlotte crossed her arms silently, surprised to find herself agreeing with Dylan and Christa on this matter. With her voice a guttural growl, she jumped into the debate and spoke her mind confidently. "I'm sorry about Pete's leg, but we can't risk having you people here long enough for him to heal. You gotta go."

"Now, hang on." Omid interjected, sitting down in his usual chair as he looked amongst the group, obviously not sharing their views when he continued in a surprised tone. "Pete doesn't look like he can get even a few feet out the door with his leg, and the weather's only getting worse. They won't last a minute out there."

"I agree with Omid. Carlos is a doctor too and like it or not, we need someone who knows something about babies to help with Christa's pregnancy, and if any of us get badly hurt. I can't do that by myself." Mason added, backing up Omid as Charlotte shook her head softly.

All while they were debating, Clementine stood by the side of the couch, staring at Pete as he tried to keep the pain under control, though the way Carlos was moving his leg while bandaging the wound, it looked like it hurt a great deal from where Charlotte was standing, wincing involuntarily while the youngest of the group asked quietly. "Is he going to be alright?"

"Well, the bullet went through his leg completely but managed to miss the major arteries. However, it will be a while before he is healed enough to walk properly, and that's with proper rest. We might not be able to give him that." Carlos explained, leaving the leg alone when he finished up bandaging the wound. Pete, relieved with the hand no longer moving his leg around and poking at the agonising injury, sighed softly as he rolled his pant leg back down, keeping the injured limb propped up before finally joining the debate on what the group should do.

"I ain't willing to risk everyone waiting here for me to get better. We gotta move."

"But Uncle Pete, your leg ain't up to it." Nick argued back, leaning against the bottom of the stairs before he pushed off, approaching his relative with a deep frown pulling at his lips as he snapped at the others in the room. "This is bullshit. Why are you guys acting like we're the bad guys here?"

"Nobody thinks that, Nick!" Charlotte shot back, joining the fray as she too moved away from her spot near the front porch, fronting the incredibly tall man with a glare. "For God's sake, I've just busted my ass getting everyone here and safe, and now you're gonna throw that back in my face because we can't risk getting caught in a situation that didn't even concern my group to begin with?! Fuck you!"

Nick didn't say anything back, rather glaring down at Charlotte with piercing blue eyes that clashed with her own. Neither one of them back down, even when Pete snapped at the both of them. "This ain't helping. Nick, you gotta calm down, son."

"Fuck this. You guys do whatever the fuck you want." He hissed, barging past Charlotte and storming outside for a moment alone. The door slamming was all that the group heard after that, all of them glancing around while Charlotte sighed to herself, leaving it there before turning her attention back to the more pressing issue at hand.

"Well, we live as a group, and we gonna decide this as a group. Now, I know that I don't wanna risk all of us out there, so I say that you guys have to go to protect everyone." She explained, waiting a moment as everyone else took in what she said before continuing. "Now, what do y'all think we should do here?"

"Yeah, I got something." Pete piped up, sitting up more as his hands dug into the old fabric of the couch. Charlotte gave him a chance to speak his mind, watching him carefully in case he needed help, and when he managed to get himself up properly without needed assistance, he continued elaborating. "You guys don't gotta come with us, but I know that the property my cousin lives on is a lot more fortified than this cabin. It'll have stocked supplies, medicine, weapons, things we need to survive and for others to join us. As much as I don't wanna be a downer, we ain't gonna get far if we go at this alone, and I can tell you one thing, Carver ain't gonna be merciful to you folks when he finds out that you killed his people."

"How's he gonna find out that? Everyone who came across us is dead, he ain't got shit." Dylan pointed out.

"That's where you're wrong, boy." Pete scolded, earning a glare from Dylan over the insulting nickname given to the teenager. "Carver's scouts are never alone. Too dangerous outside the community, and the unlucky fella out there? He weren't alone either."

"What'd you mean? I ain't seen nobody out there besides him." Charlotte replied, feeling her stomach twist at the thought of their location, and worse her group, being exposed to Carver. Others shared her feeling, Omid and Christa holding hands as Pete carried on in a guilted tone.

"I went out this morning, and was found by the dead guy and his friend. While he and I were fighting it out, the other scout got away, and there's no doubt he's gone back to tell his group where this cabin is. We gotta be gone before they find us." He finished, letting the information sink into the rest of the group. Carlos, no longer needed to patch him up, got to his feet and wiped his hands clean with a rag that was left on the coffee table. While they thought about it, Sam whined and licked his lips, sensing the air in the room as he moved closer to Charlotte's side. Stroking the top of his head with her fingers and thumb, she didn't know what to do with this new info up in the air.

"I guess we ain't got a choice then." She sighed, turning to Christa and adding. "I would rather take my chances with them than have Carver's men come to the cabin."

"I don't like the odds. With the snow, the distance we have to travel, and no vehicle to do with, we ain't outta the woods yet with either options." Christa pointed out, her hand resting on her swollen belly as Omid eyed her nervously.

"And then what about the baby? Can we risk putting Christa through this kinda stress?" That question seemed to stump everyone, with not even Carlos being able to come up with a reasonable answer that put their worries to rest. It was during that time that she really wished she hadn't crashed their car back down in Louisiana, wondering if that could've been the answer to their problems, but now they had to think out solutions on what to do. Stay in the cabin and hope that Carver brushed over them in order to find the people he was looking for, or go with the group and get sucked into their situation, but get a skilled doctor and extra people to help defend the group, as well as Christa's upcoming baby when it was finally born?

Before anyone could say anything, a new voice called out nervously from top of the stairs. "Do we have to leave again?"

Twisting her head around, she saw Sarah sitting on a step a few steps down from the top of the staircase, staring down at the group that had gathered in the living room through her large glasses. Carlos, spotting his daughter eavesdropping on them after she gave away herself, sternly ordered her. "Sarah, what did I tell you? Stay upstairs in the bedroom."

"I heard… I saw what happened outside through my window." She revealed, glancing down momentarily before turning her sights to the incapacitated Pete on the couch. "Pete, are you okay?"

"I'll live, sweetheart. Go and do what your dad said." Pete instructed, sounding calmer and more polite than Carlos did. With a slow nod, she sadly glanced at Charlotte, who kept quiet after her argument with Carlos the other night, before getting back up to her feet and climbing back up the stairs to her bedroom. Silent, her footsteps echoed through the still air, with only the shutting of the door signalling that the grown ups, along with the other kids, could keep talking. It didn't sit right with Charlotte, keeping the poor girl out of the loop like that, but right then wasn't the time to get back into the same arguments with her father.

"If we get to this place that Pete's cousin lives," Dylan started, sounding as if he was trying to convince himself just as much as his group. "It could be a good place as any to give birth and raise the baby. It'll be a helluva safer place than here, that's for sure."

"That's if we even make it there, or we can trust luck that his cousin is there in the first place. He coulda easily abandoned it." Charlotte argued back, glancing back at Pete as she added. "There's gotta be other communities, places where we can be safe from that guy. While you were in Howe's, did you hear about any other settlements? I dunno, no one mention anything that you would know of?"

Pete appeared thoughtful, putting everyone on edge before nodding slowly. "I know of a few. I went out finding new people, and came across a few on my journeys. There's one built on an old field strip up north; Prescott, and I'm pretty sure some guys had secured an old part of Wellington in Ohio."

"Ohio?! That's further away than Pittsburgh!" Christa snapped.

"Yeah, and I don't know the people enough in Prescott to suggest going there. We show up on their doorstep, and with Carver coming after us, they might just choose to turn us away and not get involved, or the guy in charge there could be the type of person we don't wanna deal with again." Pete agreed, likely knowing how impractical the other options were while turning back to Charlotte. "Other than that, I have no idea. Again, I'd like to know that Randall is alright at his place, but I still think that going there is the best thing we got."

"Alright." Charlotte sighed, running a hand through her hair in frustration, feeling her fingers bunch up in the knots that she hadn't managed to brush out yet. Hand on hip, she let the other one drop back down to her side, addressing the entire group with a dark look on her face, knowing that time for them to leave is short. "What're we gonna do?"


	13. Fugitives On The Run

What're we gonna do?

Charlotte felt like she knew the answer already. The group had very few options, and some of those options wouldn't have ended all that well. Without much debate after she raised the question, they had all decided, some more willingly than others, that they would have to abandon the place that the group called home for weeks, and go up north in hopes that they could outrun Carver and his cronies. So, they went about packing up their things before they would have to leave. Carlos patched Pete's leg as best he could, but how far the older man could walk was up to anyone's guess, and then there was the cold winter just outside their door, the snow already dropping again without warning.

Watching through the window of her bedroom, Charlotte was unmoving as she heard her brothers moving about behind her, trying to make sure they packed up everything that they would need for the long journey ahead. They didn't have much, only coming to the cabin with what they took from their old group, but watching the snow carry on falling onto the white blanket on the ground, she wished deeply that her group could've just waited out the winter and moved on, if they had to, in the spring. Still, complaining and wishing for things to happen different wouldn't help them now. Slowly, she turned around, leaving the window alone and watching silently as Mason packed his book away, taking the other books that he found scattered around the cabin during their stay.

"Where'd you think we go next?" He suddenly asked, meeting Charlotte's eyes with worry clear in his own. Dylan paused when he asked the question, listening grimly as his twin continued. "Do you really think we can get all the way to Pittsburgh? Even with Pete's leg and Christa's pregnancy?"

"It ain't the best option, but it's the only one we got. If only we still had a vehicle." Charlotte grumbled to herself, getting up from the windowsill and helping her brothers pack up. Her own bag was left alone, the photo album that Mason got her for Christmas sticking out of the half open backpack. With a raised eyebrow, she picked it up, flicking through the few pages that had any photos on them, having used Mason's camera to take them. Over the few days that he had the thing, he'd taken pictures of all the people in their group before the other survivors appeared, the one he took of Clementine causing the older woman to chuckle softly.

Wide amber eyes surprised with the camera, it looked like Mason caught Clementine off guard, the child sitting on her bed with a book in her lap before he burst through the door and snapped the picture. Her hat sitting next to her, wild curls of hair that were barely contained in those pigtails, she wasn't wearing her winter jacket or her boots, looking somewhat comfortable until she was disturbed by her friend. Closing the book again, she shoved it back in her bag, along with clothes that they had taken from the bathroom cupboard and their own. They may have been better stocked than they were back in Texas, but it didn't make the thought of doing this journey any less worrying.

"That seems to be everything we can take." Dylan piped up, hurling his heavy backpack on his back while picking up another one for Mason. It looked heavier, with camping equipment that they scavenged together inside for the time that they would need it. When Mason took it, he turned his attention back to Charlotte, who had grabbed her own bag and started corralling the teens out of the room. "The storm looks like it's getting worse. I don't think Carver's guys will be able to get through that just yet."

"It'll give us the chance we need to escape." She pointed out, exiting their bedroom with her hand on the doorknob, closing the door behind her before the group paused. Down the hallway, in her old bedroom, they spotted Sarah and Carlos coming out with their own bags, the teenage girl standing with her feet kicking at the wooden floor until she saw Charlotte and her brothers approaching them.

Mason, surprisingly, was the first to pipe up. "You doing alright, Sarah?"

"Not really. I don't really wanna leave here, it's safe here." She explained softly, not meeting Carlos' gaze as he turned around to look down at her. Only a deep sigh passed his lips, as if he had already explained the reason to his daughter and didn't want to spark an argument with Charlotte, neither adult exactly friendly with the other at the moment. Still, even he seemed somewhat saddened that they were forced to leave so soon.

"I know, darlin'." Charlotte comforted, glancing at Carlos as she added. "But we gotta do what's best for all of us. We ain't safe here anymore."

"Will you guys be coming all the way with us? To Pittsburgh?" There was a hint of curiosity in her voice. It warmed Charlotte's heart, seeing that even though she couldn't stand her father, her budding friendship with Sarah wasn't at all affected. With a small nod as a reply, Sarah's face beamed and she started blabbing once more. "That's cool. We got some cool camping stuff, and I know loads of spooky stories to say around the campfire. Did you guys ever go camping?"

That question was more directed to the boys rather than Charlotte. Mason, definitely the more shy of the twins, seemed stunned with the question and held his hands together in front of his body, nodding with a smile as the group started moving down the stairs. With the kids behind them, Charlotte listened while he explained. "My dad used to take us camping all the time. It was a lot warmer in Texas than here, though."

"That's an understatement." Dylan snorted, smirking at his brother while he carried on the conversation with Sarah. "Some nights would get so warm that we'd sleep on top of the sleeping bags. It was pretty awesome, except for the mosquitos."

"Ew, those things are so gross." They carried on talking away, following after the grown ups as they reached the bottom of the staircase. Clementine and Christa were already sitting on the couch, their own things sitting next to them on the floor. The brief smile on Charlotte's face disappeared when she saw Christa looking up at her, standing up from her spot on the couch and approaching the other woman with a grim expression.

"Everyone's in the kitchen. We should go and talk things out before we leave." She explained, glancing between Carlos and Charlotte. There was no way out of it, so Charlotte just nodded in response and followed after the pregnant survivor, knowing that the kids would be good enough while the adults were talking things out. The twins and Sarah were busy chatting away, while Clementine waited patiently on the couch, watching the grown ups disappearing into the kitchen from under the brim of her baseball cap.

All the adults were congregated in the kitchen. Due to his leg, Pete took a seat at the dinner table, tapping his fingertips against the smooth wooden surface while everyone else looked around nervously. Nick leaned against the wall next to the back door, not paying attention to anyone after the brief temper outburst he had with Charlotte beforehand, one that even pushed her not to look at him, rather focusing on the group as she stopped near the counters. Leaning her hands against them, she kept quiet as Pete addressed the issues the group was facing. "So, there's no doubt that we're gonna do this, but we gotta plan this out. Just running out into that weather without an inkling of where we're gonna go is just suicidal."

"I agree." Christa backed up, looking around as she added. "We could go further into a town just west of here, Albemarle. We've scavenged there a few times. Omid and Charlotte know the layout better than anyone else here."

"That's no good. Carver's men will be coming from the west. We'd be walking right into them." Carlos interjected, earning a glare from Christa and Charlotte while continuing. "What about north?"

"If you wanna keep travelling in this forests, which can hide all kinds of animals and walkers. That, and we don't have any idea of which way is north without some kind of road or signs, unless you guys have a compass?" There was no affirmation on that, so it just proved her point further, but even Charlotte had to agree on Carlos' first point as she sighed. "Still, maybe you're right. We could be walking right into Carver's hands."

"Going east would only put us in more forests. I don't have a compass, but I did find this." Omid added, pulling something out of the front compartment of his rucksack and laying it out on the table for all to see. Approaching him, Charlotte raised an eyebrow when she realised that it was in fact a map, showing the roads and locations of North Carolina and even up into Virginia.

"How'd you find this?" She asked, tracing her finger to figure out where the group, and the cabin, would be on the map.

"Found it just laying around in the cabin. Whoever lived here before was pretty decked out before they disappeared. See," he paused, putting his finger to a forest that was near the border of the state. "The cabin is here, and the river where we have the fish traps is just north of here. If we wanna avoid walking right into Carver's goons, we can follow the river to the main one and follow that north."

"We'll end up reaching that lake." Charlotte elaborated, pointing at the small blue patch on the map with her slender finger. Folding the map up again, she kept hold of it with new determination. "Well, looks like we got a plan on where we're going. Nick, how's the weather looking out there?"

Glancing up from under his baseball cap, he slowly turned his head and peered out of the back door window, shrugging his shoulders as he replied gruffly. "Doesn't look like it's getting worse, but it ain't getting better either."

"Well, we ain't got the time to wait around on our asses, so everyone should get wrapped up as best y'all can. That cold is gonna bite you on the ass if we ain't careful." She ordered, shoving the map in her jacket pocket and letting the group leave to get everything ready to move out. All except Nick. Noticing that he wasn't moving, she turned around and stared at him, her eyes looking his thin looking outfit up and down before she pointed out calmly. "You ain't gonna go out like that, are you? You'll freeze your ass off."

"Hmm." That was all he replied to her. She wanted to snap at him to get ready, worried that their time was running out, but at the same time she didn't want to make things worse between them. Thankfully, he took the cue to go and get ready, pushing himself off the wall and passing her as he too went back into the living room, leaving Charlotte all alone in the kitchen. Arms wrapped around her chest, she thought about following after them, but something pulled her to glance out of the back door window, unable to be ignored as she indulged her thoughts and shuffled over to the window.

Nick was right. The snow carried on falling softly, but it didn't look like it would go off into a full blown blizzard or calm down. Even with the snowfall, the body of the man that she shot before was barely covered, his flesh grey and limbs stiff with rigor mortis and frost. It was kinda sad to see such life wasted. Still, she managed to pull herself away from the window and follow her group back into the living room, finding that the newcomers into their small family had been kitted out with the winter gear ready for the journey, noticing that Sarah had kept the sweater that they gave her yesterday and just put her old coat over it, buttoning it up. Giving her a brief smile and ruffling the top of her head, she turned to Christa as the latter spoke up. "We should get going now."

All in agreement, the group grabbed their rucksacks, even Clementine putting on her little purple backpack, and started moving out, walking past Charlotte as she waited for everyone to leave. Sam, who had been quiet throughout all this trouble, stayed sitting by the chair, watching his owner with inquisitive eyes and low whines when she seemed troubled. Trying to fake a smile to calm him, she glanced around the cabin one last time, sighing to herself as she muttered. "Well Sam, I guess it really was too good to be true."

Her hand moved slightly as the dog pushed his head underneath it, seeking to comfort her while they stood there silently. After a few moments of silence, she readjusted the rucksack on her shoulder and whistled for him, walking to the front door with Sam in tow. "Come on, we best be leaving."

There was no use in crying over this place, even if she was dismayed over losing her chance at rebuilding a family home. They'd move on, find somewhere new, that much she knew would be true, but the journey would be hard and long, so much so that she didn't know if she, or anyone in the group, actually had the strength to make it. Keeping that doubt to herself, she rejoined the group outside the front door, closing it behind her while glancing at Mason and Dylan, the two boys having waited for her to follow out after them. Ruffling Mason's hair, she tried to keep their spirits up. "Don't worry guys. We'll be able to settle down for real soon."

"I hope you're right." Dylan sighed, before turning around and walking down the steps to the rest of the group. Nick was helping Pete walk, allowing his uncle to put some of his weight on himself in hopes that it would make it easier for the older survivor to walk, but they'd have to swap Nick out eventually.

Without any time left to waste, the group decided to head out then, starting to walk down the snow covered path that led towards the river. Charlotte kept to the back, her hand resting against the machete sheath that she had on her belt, keeping the weapon close as no doubt there'd be treacherous obstacles blocking their paths. Thick crunching under her boots echoed in the freezing cold air, her bandana being pulled in front of her face to try and keep the painful frost from entering her lungs. Every lungful was agony. Tiny daggers digging into her warm flesh, even with the thin fabric over her mouth and nose. Hands shoved in pockets, she kept to herself while Mason carried on talking with Sarah, trying to make light of their situation in hopes that it would raise the teenage girl's spirits.

Dylan however slowed down, walking by Charlotte's side as he muttered. "Seems like someone's making a friend."

"Why don't you go and join them? God knows you need as many friends as you can get nowadays." She retorted, smirking down at her brother even though he couldn't possibly see it through her bandana.

"Nah," he rejected, shaking his head softly with slicked back locks bouncing around with the movement. "I'd just feel… awkward. Besides, I'm not really in the mood to talk about things. I'd rather just walk here with you and Sam."

As if on cue, Sam turned his head and stared at the teenage boy with those big brown eyes of his, panting slightly with his warm breath misting in front of his muzzle. Dylan smiled softly, but soon enough something else grabbed his attention. Both of them stared ahead, but Dylan had his eyes trained on the men walking front; Carlos having taken the lead of the group while Nick and Pete walked just behind him. Keeping his voice low, almost to keep them from overhearing their conversation, the teenage boy whispered to his sister. "You think we can trust them?"

Charlotte didn't reply, still staring at them while Dylan carried on. "I mean, they've been pretty quiet about this whole Carver business, and if it weren't for them… we'd still be at the cabin, not on the run in the middle of winter."

"Pete seems trustworthy. He hasn't lied or tried anything funny with us, but the others I'm not too sure about." She confessed, glancing down at Dylan as she explained. "You typically can trust people through their actions. Some people will try to get your guard down through their words, say one thing while meaning something completely different. Those types are ones you should keep your distance from, buddy. That's why I don't trust Carlos at all."

"He hasn't really talked to us, but I'll take your word for it. Something about him seems off." Dylan agreed, before he paused momentarily, staring down at the footprints left behind by the survivors in front of them. Charlotte didn't break that silence, rather walking along quietly before he spoke up again. "What about Nick? What'd you think of him?"

Eyes narrowing, she frowned deeply and thought about the question, her voice low and gravelly as she replied gruffly. "He ain't the type to try and manipulate anyone to get what he wants. He seems a more 'heart on your sleeve' type of guy, but he's volatile. After Emma's death, I don't know how long he can go before he cracks."

"He did seem pretty pissed off with you today. Can we even count on someone like that?"

"We'll have to see. He hasn't done anything to make me distrust him, but I don't exactly wanna take him out on a mission with me either." A rogue wind blew through the barren trees at that moment, hitting the group head on and chilling them down to the bone. Even with the extra layers, it felt like the frost was growing through into her shivering body, causing Charlotte to let out a low sigh. "We should find shelter if this gets any worse. We won't survive long out here if we don't."

"We won't hit a town for another few hours." Dylan pointed out. Charlotte knew that, nodding in agreement before deciding to walk in silence and feel sorry for herself. How she wished to get out of the snow and back into the warmth of the south, but that was long gone. Even if she was free to go back down to the southern states, the group were already set on the plan they made, and even if they weren't, there was nothing left there that they could salvage together.

Thankfully, the snow fall had lifted, the grey clouds moving on when they had nothing else to give to the area. It felt like they had been walking for hours, even though it wasn't likely as long with the sun, having now poked out form the cover of the clouds, continued to shine brightly from up above them. Dylan took Charlotte's advice after their little talk, leaving her alone to go and talk with Mason and Sarah, even managing to get Clementine to join in with their group. Watching from the back, she felt a smile pull at her lips when she saw the little girl letting her guard down slightly, even awkwardly smiling when Mason made a joke and the group started laughing. Knowing her brother, it likely wasn't a very funny joke, but it was nice that Clementine was putting in the effort to converse with them.

Distracted by them, she didn't notice Christa slowing down until she was right beside the other woman, her voice snapping Charlotte out of her thoughts. "We should be near the river now."

"You got any idea how long we been walking?" She replied, sighing loudly as she felt her ankle ache slightly. "I'm almost ashamed to admit it, but my feet are killing me."

"I know that feeling." That made Charlotte chuckle, remembering that Christa was in fact pregnant and technically carrying for two. At least the baby was getting a free ride. However, the good vibes slowly faded away, as they took a more serious turn with Christa confessing. "You really think we can trust this plan of theirs? Travelling all the way to Pittsburgh on just the word of some guy we hardly know?"

"I think we're pretty fucked for choices, to be honest. I mean, we either do this or we wait out in the cabin hoping that Carver's people would either not find us or leave us alone when they don't find those they're looking for. Pretty much a rock and a hard place." She pointed out. Christa didn't reply to that, but she knew from the look on the other woman's face that she was thinking the exact same thing as Charlotte said. They didn't have much of a choice.

"You haven't gotten us killed yet, so I trust that you know what you're doing, but it doesn't mean I particularly like it."

"Heh, don't give me credit yet. I'm sure I can still fuck this up somehow." Charlotte joked, though Christa wasn't in much of a joking mood. Her laughter died quickly, and when she heard the kids joking around in front, she was jealous of their good vibes. They fell silent after that awkward exchange, though it wasn't for long as the pair noticed the trees thinning out the longer they walked down the snow covered path.

"I guess we're at the river." Charlotte pointed out, hurrying up to the front of the group to see where they were. Reaching Carlos' side, she could hear the faint yet familiar sound of water flowing, able to see the open area of woodlands just ahead of them.

From her side, she heard Carlos ask. "That the river we're looking for?"

"Yep." She replied shortly, taking lead of the group as they edged out of the protective cover of the forest. Out in the open, she felt pretty exposed, especially since the danger following them wouldn't give them the same warning as the moaning walkers would do. Still, it seemed safe enough, free of the walking corpses that constantly harassed them, and so she approached the traps that they had left behind to gather food. "Keep an eye out, y'all. We take a short break here and then we'll be heading out again."

Focusing on the traps, she kneeled down in front of one of them, opening the lid and peering inside, hoping that there was at least something to take with them. Omid appeared by her side, getting the fish box that he must have packed into his rucksack beforehand out and placing it down next to her, obviously optimistic that they would find anything. Ignoring him for a second while he went to check the second trap, she smiled slightly when she saw that they had caught something finally. Pulling the fish out, it wasn't anything like a salmon, rather looking like a small green fish, and definitely not enough to feed the whole group. With nothing else in the trap to help them, she closed the lid again and shuffled around to face the fish box, finding that Omid had put some snow at the bottom to keep the fish cold until they are able to cook them.

"Huh, neat trick." She complimented him, earning a grin while she put the fish in the box. Getting to her feet, she heard a loud groan behind her, turning her head in the direction to find that Nick had put Pete down on a large rock to take the weight off his injured leg, straightening himself as she approached them. "How're y'all holding up?"

"Freezing. I don't know how long we can keep going in this weather, but at least it looks like it's letting up." Pete explained, trying to straighten out his bandaged leg before hissing quietly. "Ah, shit."

"We woulda been better off if we managed to lift one of Carver's trucks of him. It'd make the trip up north so much easier." Nick grumbled, shaking his head as he looked up at the skies, the brim of his hat keeping the sun was blinding him while he added. "It's around midday now. We should get outta here soon, I don't like standing around in the open like this."

"Just gimme a second to rest this leg. Meanwhile, Charlotte, you should check up on everyone. Make sure everyone is ready to head out at a moment's notice." Pete ordered, leaving his leg alone when he finally managed to get it stretched out.

Nodding softly, she turned around and walked away as she obeyed. "I'll get on that."

Leaving them alone, she stared down at Omid again, noticing that he was trying to get something obviously big into the fish box. Intrigued by what he was trying to accomplish, she approached him again, watching silently when she noticed that it was another fish, likely taken from the fish trap that Omid was looking in before. It was impressive, definitely bigger than the pitiful fish she got out. Stopping by him, she whistled and placed her hands on her hips, a pleased tone lacing her voice as she pointed out. "That'll be able to feed the group tonight."

"You jealous there, Charlie?" Omid joked, flashing a grin as he carried on. "Is mine bigger than yours?"

That caused her to snort. Controlling herself, she shook her head while smiling brightly. "Don't get your hopes up. I've seen bigger."

"Ouch. Well, at least the group can have something fresh tonight. I heard fresh stuff is way better for pregnant women."

"About that." Charlotte started, her smile fading slightly as the worry started forming at the back of her mind again. Grabbing Omid's attention, she glanced over at Christa, finding the grown woman keeping an eye on the kids as they kept to themselves near the creek coming off the river. "You ready for it? The little guy coming into a world like this?"

"I've thought about it, but I wouldn't ever think that I wouldn't want the baby. Even if the world is like this, doesn't change the fact that, hell, I'm pretty excited to see our baby." He explained, still managing to keep that smile on his face while Charlotte was being torn apart from the inside. She didn't want anything bad to happen to her friends, even if they had only known each other for a couple of weeks. With death around every corner, that amount of time is still impressive.

Feeling lifted by his refreshing optimism, she smiled warmly and agreed. "Yeah, I guess you're right. It'll be nice to have a new face in the group."

"Same here." Managing to get the fish into the box, Omid packed it away into his rucksack and got up to his feet, slinging the bag over his shoulder before reaching his hand out to Charlotte. "Pass the map here. Christa and I can plot out where we can set up camp while we're taking a break here."

"Nope, don't think so." Charlotte declined, keeping the folded up map in her pocket as she added in the defense, cutting Omid's objections off with a smug expression. "I don't trust you not to get us lost. Remember when you said Albemarle was only an hour away from here at tops."

"Are you gonna hold that over me forever?" She didn't have to answer that question, rather raising an eyebrow silently and standing there as the grown man sighed. "Fine, but you should take that map over to Christa anyway. It'd be nice to know where we should head to next."

"Alright, you keep an eye out for walkers." With that, she pulled the map out of her pocket and turned around, unravelling it fully as she made her way over to where Christa was sitting. Making herself comfortable on an overturned log that likely used to be the trunk of a tree, she watched the children enjoying their short break with Sam sitting by her side, keeping guard in case any danger appeared out of the forests.

When Charlotte neared, Sam turned his attention to the newcomer, panting slightly while Christa too turned her attention away from the children, staring up at Charlotte with a tired glint in her eyes. Pausing, bandaged hand grabbing softly on the worn map, she took a seat next to Christa and explained. "We should see where would be a good spot to set up camp when it gets dark. You any good at reading maps?"

"I was in charge of the map Omid and I used for our road trip." Christa pointed out, taking the map with a gentle smile and looking down at it, trying to plot out where the group would go next. Focused, Charlotte took the moment to keep an eye on the kids for the pregnant survivor, smiling softly when she saw Clementine laughing at whatever Dylan was talking about, likely joking around to lift the mood. However, her lips fell into a deep frown when she saw that Sarah was no longer with the others, looking around with her heart falling slightly.

Thankfully, she spotted the teenage girl sitting down near Pete and Nick while Carlos kept to her side. Their arguments echoed in the back of her mind, eyes narrowing when she suspected what Carlos had told Sarah to keep her near him. Hell, she understood that need to protect kids under your care, even if she wasn't Mason and Dylan's mother nor would ever really feel like one, but overprotectiveness would only hurt Sarah in the long run. Still, she kept her distance, unwilling to fracture the fragile bonds that was holding this group together. From beside her, she overheard Christa reveal. "It seems like the lake we talked about before is the only thing around besides forests. It could be a good spot to rest and stock up on water and food, if there's any fish in there."

Looking at the map, Charlotte stared at the spot where Christa was pointing to, noticing the large blue lake pictured from before. Humming under her breath, she got up to her feet and sighed. "It looks like it's hours away. We should get moving if we want enough daylight to make it."

"Yeah, we should go." Christa got up from her resting spot, approaching the kids with Sam following after her, leaving Charlotte to get the others up and ready to carry on. Keeping the map out to make sure they wouldn't get lost, she walked over to Pete and his group quickly, feeling almost bad for making the older man get up again and walk on a bad leg with very little rest.

"Come on, we're moving on." She ordered, stopping in front of the survivors with the map in hand. Sarah was the first to get up, turning around when she heard Pete grunt in pain. Charlotte said nothing, watching with a neutral expression as Nick helped his uncle back up to his feet, willing to shed some of the weight on his shoulders if it meant they could move quicker and easier with an injured man.

"Are you gonna be alright, Pete?" Sarah asked softly, obviously worried for her friend.

Hopping slightly to avoid putting too much weight on his leg, Pete smiled down at the teenage girl and nodded, trying to stop her from worrying too much as he replied. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Don't worry about me, kid."

Charlotte wasn't so confident. Glancing down at his leg, she saw that his blood had soaked right through the bandages, no doubt needing to be changed again soon enough, but other than that he didn't look ready to keel over just yet. So, she kept quiet, and instead lead the split off group back to rejoin the others, making sure everyone was together before they head off along the river bank. Christa came to the front, taking the map off Charlotte and taking over the role of navigator, much to the latter's relief considering her map reading skills weren't… great. Following her expertise, there were soft whispers of conversations going on behind them, though when Charlotte glanced over her shoulder, she spotted Sarah keeping by her father's side, even though her face looked like all she wanted was to have fun with the other kids in the group.

At least the others were making light of everything. Turning back around, she worked with Christa to lead the group along the river, eventually finding the main body and followed it up north towards the lake. The sun's rays were too weak to melt away the snow completely, but as the hours of the afternoon passed by, Charlotte found that some patches of dirt and grass had started poking out of the thick blanket of snow, the area around the base of the trees left uncovered due to the protective branches stretched out overhead. Pete's leg slowed them down considerably, and he found himself pretty useless in killing any of the walkers that the group ran into, having to sit it out while the others cleared out the areas.

After hours of walking and taking short breaks, Charlotte decided to scout up ahead for the others, allowing them to walk more at Pete's pace. For protection, Mason decided to accompany his sister to watch her back. They had gone off the beaten track, instead moving through the wilderness quickly yet carefully, knowing that walkers could be hiding themselves behind the larger boulders or the thick vegetation that littered the forests. Pushing through some bushes, she held the branch back to keep it from swinging back and smacking Mason in the face, letting him pass through as he mumbled. "Thanks."

"We shouldn't be far now. Keep an eye out." She instructed, placing a hand on his back and guiding the younger survivor out of the foliage, pausing when they reach a clear spot within the woodlands. No matter which direction she looked, everything looked the same. Trees and bushes and more trees. Any snow that managed to get down to the ground was untouched, no longer melting with the sun dipping near the horizon again. Glancing around, she started walking in a direction she felt was the right way, the map crumbled in her hand as she pulled it open once more.

"We're lost, aren't we?" Mason sighed, walking by her side as he glanced around, trying to figure out where they were. "Everything here looks the same."

"We ain't lost. We'll find it." Charlotte refuted. Mason said no more on the matter, trusting that she'll get them outta this predicament, but time was running out as she looked up at the skies. The usual monotone grey or bright blues of the day skies was being replaced by the beautiful array of colours that came with dusk; pinks, red and oranges, but light was no less fading away, and she knew better than to wander around the forests at night.

Suddenly, the faint sound of water running reached their ears. Pausing, she turned her head towards the source of the sounds, and with a smug smirk at her younger brother, they quickly made their way through the looming trees towards the water. The forests thinned out, trees becoming less and less an occurrence when the duo moved further through them, trying to figure out where the direction of the sound was coming from. Pushing through some more bushes, Charlotte peeked through the other end and breathed a sigh of relief, allowing Mason to pass by her as the both of them took in the sights. The lakes looked stunning, untouched by the devastating plague that destroyed the cities and left them eerie ghost towns. The sun was on the other end of the lake, its reflection bouncing off the shimmering surface of the water while the wind blew across it, creating small waves that moved faintly.

"Woah," Mason whistled, stopping once he was clear of the forest and its foliage. "It's beautiful."

"This is as good a spot as any to set up camp. The group shouldn't be far behind." Charlotte pointed out, turning around and walking back into the forest to see where the group had gotten to. Sure enough, in the distance, she spotted the familiar group trudging towards them slowly, bogged down with exhaustion and injuries. While they were making their way over, she came back out of the forest and approached Mason, who had sat down near the water's edge, just soaking in the beauty of their surroundings.

"It's like, for a moment, you can sit here and forget that the world's gone to shit." He muttered, rubbing his sore ankles through his jeans. Finally, Charlotte was able to shed the heavy weight on her shoulders, dropping the backpack on the floor and collapsing to the ground just to get some rest. Aches and pains shot up her long legs from her feet, the effects of the journey hitting her at once as soon as the need to find a safe place to rest was gone from her mind. Arm slung over her face, she tried to ignore the biting cold of the little snow left on the ground, her back dreadfully cold from the contact.

"Wow!" A new voice called out, Charlotte turning her head and uncovering her eyes to see that it was Sarah who had exclaimed, obviously stunned with the sights of the lake. The others in the group had made it, Dylan reuniting with Mason and starting to set up camp for the night, dropping his heavy rucksack on the ground before flipping the top open to peer inside. They had packed some essential camping equipment, including a tarp that would keep any newly fallen snow from dropping on top of the group.

Nick, having swapped with Carlos in helping Pete walk a while ago, started taking the tarp out with the entire group helping each other set camp up quicker, all except Charlotte who was still lying on the ground. Her feet ached something terrible, and when she finally managed to sit up, she saw that the group had rolled out the sleeping bags that they had scavenged days ago underneath the tarp. It looked pretty comfortable given the circumstances. Suddenly, Christa appeared by Charlotte's side, staring down at the other as she asked. "While we get camp set up, you should go and gather some firewood from the forest. We'll need a fire tonight."

"On it." She obeyed, getting back up to her feet finally and skulking back into the forests. She though gathering firewood would be something easy, especially given that there was fallen branches and wood everywhere, but finding  _dry_ wood on the other hand was insanely difficult. Wet wood wouldn't burn. Damp leaves that had fallen months ago stuck to the bottom of her boots, a gross squelching sound following her as she walked over the wet vegetation laying on the bottom of the forest floor.

Pausing in front of a small log, she picked it up and rotated it slightly, looking it over before deciding it was dry enough to burn and shoved it under her arm. The temperature was dropping fast, the light fading into the pitch darkness of the night skies, the moon not even appearing as Charlotte spent longer in the woods finding firewood. Breath frosting in front of her face as she breathed out loudly, she managed to gather a small amount of firewood that would at least get a fire started, though she highly doubted they'd be able to get one running throughout the night for warmth. The forests at night were different, terrifying even, with every small noise or movement setting her hairs on edge while she made her way back to the group, trying to not get herself lost in the confusing darkness.

All of a sudden, deep moans filled the air, causing Charlotte to freeze momentarily. Trying to keep her breathing under control, she glanced around the countless trees and foliage that could have been hiding the danger until it was too late, trying to see if she could make out the vague outlines of walkers in the darkness. Her free hand rested on the hilt of her machete, the blade making a metallic sound when she pulled it out of its sheath. Holding the weapon close to her, she felt a small comfort from it, but she'd feel a lot better if she got back to her group. So, firewood tucked safely under her arm, she started to run, hopefully leaving any walkers following her behind.

The frozen air stung her airway with every breath she took. Still, she couldn't stop running, unwilling to face the walkers in the dark with nothing but her machete to keep her safe. While her thoughts ran madly through her head, she didn't notice something waving around on the ground until she felt fingers grab her ankle, digging into the fabric of her jeans and pulling her foot from underneath her. A short yell escaped her lips, her body making a dull thud when it collided with the ground. Momentarily stunned, she turned her head to see that her fears were true, and the sounds were coming from walkers that were stalking the forests. This one, from what she could see in the low light, was only half a walker, its lower legs missing in some unknown accident.

Its grip was tight, trying to pull itself further towards her with only one thing on its mind. Food. Struggling to free herself, she raised her free leg and delivered a devastating kick to the walkers face, breaking its jaw as it hung there uselessly. Still, its grip refused to budge, and when she turned to see where her machete was, she spotted a couple more of the undead making their way towards her. Thinking fast, she tried to reach out for her machete, the weapon being flung when she fell over, but her fingers only touched it slightly, not enough for her to be able to grab it anyway. Grunting as she once again tried to free her leg, she looked around for anything to get the walker off her. Sure enough, she spotted the wood that she dropped within her reach, grabbing the heavy looking log and raising it high above her head, watching the walker pulling itself closer before dropping the log on the top of its head.

The blow stunned it, weak groans coming from the corpse before Charlotte bashed it in the head again, repeatedly doing so until the noises stopped and the walker was no longer moving, laying there in a small puddle of its own discoloured blood. Breathing out loudly, she tried to get her breath back before the other walkers grabbed her attention, having gotten uncomfortably close to her during the time she was trying to get the walk off her. Freed, she scrambled for her machete, picking it up from the ground and gripping the handle tight as she faced the danger. With her weapon back and the survivor on her feet, the couple of walkers weren't able to get the chance to strike as she took them out, kicking one of them in the leg before taking care of the other one.

Letting the corpse fall to the ground as she pulled the blade out of its head, she turned to the stunned walker from before, not giving it any time to reach out to her as her blade pierced the top of its head. Blood splattered on the ground, followed by a heavy thud when the body collapsed to the ground. The danger was gone. Taking a moment, Charlotte bent over with her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath after that heart-thumping encounter. Her machete was returned to its rightful place, and with night having come, she gathered the firewood that she dropped and limped back where the group had settled down. The walker grabbing her ankle likely caused her to twist it, a painful sensation shooting up everytime she put weight on it.

Still, it could've been worse. When she finally stumbled out of the forests, alive but wounded, she was relieved to find that the group had fully set up camp. It wasn't much, with the sleeping bags put under the tarp to protect them from the elements, but it was certainly more comfortable than just sleeping on the ground. Approaching them, Clementine was the first to spot her from out of the darkness, the small smile on her face disappearing when Charlotte came closer, showing just how beaten up the grown woman was. "What happened? Are you alright?"

"Just some walkers in the forests. I'm fine." She consoled, trying not to limp too obviously as she put the firewood next to Christa. "Got ya the firewood we need."

"I'll get it started. You should lie down for a while, you look like you've hurt yourself." Christa pointed out, obviously concerned with Charlotte's limp. A rest did sound good to her at that moment, even if her stomach was growling loudly, desperate for some food after walking all day. Ignoring it, she left Christa to get the campfire ready and dragged her feet over to the sleeping area.

Pete was already there, resting on top of one of their sleeping bags with his band leg stretched out, Carlos and Mason kneeling beside him while the former checked how the injury was holding up. Limping over to a sleeping bag next to them while pulling her bandana down to around her neck, she had to duck to avoid her head catching the top of the tarp, watching the trio conversing quietly before piping up. "How're ya holding up, Pete?"

"Well, it ain't infected. Just need to rest it some more." He revealed, wincing when Carlos wrapped some fresh bandages around the wound, keeping it from getting loose before tying it up. Mason watched diligently, trying to take in all he could by watching Carlos' work, and when the doctor finished up, he kept to himself and just listened while the hispanic man addressed his sister.

"It is a miracle that the wound hasn't become infected, but it will take a long time to heal if he can't rest it." He explained, throwing the bloodied bandages into a box that he kept in his rucksack, likely to dispose of them when he has the chance. Charlotte said nothing, though she did listen as he went further into detail. "The tibialis anterior muscle in his low leg has been practically destroyed by the bullet passing through. Without that muscle, it'll be incredibly difficult for Pete to walk around."

"Aw shit. What can we do?" Charlotte cursed, having no idea that the situation was that bad.

Her question caused Carlos to frown deeply, looking away from her as he instead stared at the bandaged wound in Pete's leg. The silence was deafening, only the conversations going on in the group sitting around the campfire breaking it, but soon enough, Carlos replied gruffly. "I've done the best I can, but only time can now tell if the wound will heal."

"We can't exactly stay here and wait for Pete's leg to heal, but there's mountains between us and Virginia. Honestly, are you gonna be able to make that, Pete?" No one could answer that question, but the serious expression on Carlos' face, as well as his lack of an answer, could only mean one thing, causing Charlotte to grimly frown quietly. Noticing Mason looking downtrodden at the reality, she tried to lift the spirits of the group by pointing out. "Well, only one way to really know. I think you're a tough guy, Pete, and if anyone can get through this, it's us."

"Appreciate the optimism." He replied gratefully, before noticing that Christa had gotten the fire going and food was finally being cooked. Making himself more comfortable on the sleeping bag, he turned to Carlos and gestured to the fire with a flick of his head. "You should go and get something to eat. I'm fine here."

"Alright, I'll be back to check on your leg later on." Carlos nodded, standing up slowly and, with a quick glance at Charlotte, walking over to the fire to get something to eat. Mason stayed where he was, keeping to himself before Pete addressed him.

"Hey, kid. Grab my smokes for me. They're in the front part of my backpack." He asked, ignoring Charlotte's narrowed glares while Mason did as he was told, shuffling over to where Pete had left his bag and rummaging through it in search of the cigarettes. After a few moments of silence, he pulled out a small carton half full of them, closing the backpack once more before returning to the older man's side and offering them to him. Taking the carton, he tapped one out and grabbed it between his teeth, patting down his pockets before cursing. "Shit, I musta forgotten my lighter back in the cabin."

"Here." Charlotte piped up, lifting up slightly to reach into her back pocket for her lighter. Once she found it, she held it out and ran her thumb over the stone, igniting the small flame as Pete lit up the end of his cigarette with it. Once it was lit, she extinguished the flame and shoved the lighter back in her pocket, sitting there with her sore leg held out while her fingers massaged the sore tendons around her ankle.

All of them sat there quietly, enjoying the chatter going on just outside the tarp, though occasionally Mason let out a soft cough when he inhaled too much of Pete's smoke, causing Charlotte to point her thumb at their friends gathered around the campfire. "Hey, buddy, you mind getting me and Pete some food while he finishes his smoke?"

"...Alright." He was hesitant to leave for some reason, but did what he was told as he got up to his feet and shuffled out of the sleeping area, joining the rest of their group.

Left alone, Charlotte finally took the chance to speak with Pete alone, turning her head to face him once more and nodding to the carton of cigarettes that he left by his side, voice low when she muttered. "Ya gonna share one or what?"

A deep chuckle escape Pete's throat. Grabbing the carton, he flicked one halfway out for her to grab, the movement sleek like he had done it countless times before. Cigarette in hand, she pulled out her lighter again and lit up the end of it, taking a long drag before she started sputtering, causing Pete to point out with a smile. "You don't smoke much, do you?"

"I did while in university. Only way I could get through the stress of my exams, that or drinking and I've dealt with enough drunk people to last me a lifetime." Her father jumped to her mind, and even though he wasn't an aggressive drunk or even an alcoholic, that didn't mean she was always happy to find him bladdered in the local bar with all his mates. Especially when she was on break from her studies. Managing to get her coughing under control, she took another drag and sighed. "How 'bout you?"

"June 1963. Was attending San Bernardino down in California, now that was a while ago." He mused, the smoke rolling from his nostrils as he appeared deep in thought. Charlotte agreed on that, it was a long time ago, but when she exhaled a plume of smoke, his voice dropped slightly while the conversation took a serious turn. "You wanna hear something funny?"

She didn't reply, but considering he wasn't smiling anymore and instead seemed grim, what he would say next would be anything but funny. After pausing for a few seconds, he carried on softly. "You think that I'm tough, but if I'm being honest? I don't think I'm gonna make this journey, not with my leg being the way it is, and that scares me. Not knowing when death will finally get you but knowing that it's close. I'm terrified, Charlotte. Jesus… Never thought I would ever say that, but there you go."

"Pete, come on, Nick could overhear us." Charlotte admonished, unwilling to entertain the idea of Nick finding his uncle, his one last family member in this world, talking about dying soon and leaving him alone.

"I know. I love that boy. He may seem like a hardass, but deep down he has a good heart, and he's gonna need people looking out for him when I eventually do go." Pete reminisced, looking out to the people gathered around while the food cooked. Omid's fish was skewered, held over the fire while he rotated it, trying to get it evenly cooked while everyone else waited patiently, including the kids as they just joked around in their own little group. Charlotte followed the old man's gaze, spotting Nick sitting next to Sarah and Carlos, keeping to himself while the teen girl chatted with Christa and Omid.

From beside her, she listened as Pete broke the silence between them. "One time, when Nick was a lil' older than Clementine, I took him hunting with me. Spotted a beautiful buck and instructed Nick on how to shoot the rifle. He lines the shot but before he could pull the trigger, he starts crying. 'I don't wanna shoot the deer, Uncle Pete. Please don't make me shoot it.'"

"Reminds me of my trips with my dad." Charlotte laughed, recalling the numerous times that she refused to shoot an animal and even got into hysterics over it. She was only a child, and much to her relief, her father didn't push her to do anything that she didn't want to, instead telling her to wait in the truck while he brought back the kills. Seeing their lifeless eyes staring at her unblinking, she shared Nick's sentiment of not wanting to kill a beautiful creature.

"Yeah, well when I tried to take the gun off him, Nick almost went a gutshot me. Thank god he can't shoot for shit, but it did scare off the buck." Pete carried on, turning back to look at Charlotte while he finished his story. "I found it again later on in the season and shot it. Brought it back to Emma so she'd skin it and freeze the meat, but Nick wouldn't speak to me for weeks after."

"I take it he did eventually, though?"

"Yeah, but I guess the way I raised him left Nick angry at me. I tried my best, raised him the way my father raised me, but I suppose Nick wasn't me, and trying to raise him the way I did only drove him to hate me more." Pete explained, actually saddened with the fact that his relationship with his nephew was so strained. "Sometimes, you gotta take a role. Even when the people you love hate you for it."

With that, Pete finished his cigarette and snubbed it out on the ground beside him, flicking the remaining butt away. Charlotte carried on smoking, letting the smoke escape the corner of her lips before finally exhaling fully, managing to get better at not coughing violently before she shrugged. "I don't think he hates you. Would he have been willing to carry you all this way if he did?"

That made him pause in thought. Finishing her cigarette, she flicked it away from them, just in time as Mason came back with the now cooked food. Passing the meat that had been skewered on some sticks, the topic they were talking about before died out, rather the trio making light talk while eating. Charlotte couldn't get Pete's words out of her mind, however, unsure what they'd do if his words rang true and he wouldn't make the journey through the mountains. It'd get colder than it is now, and without lakes or streams to gather water as they travelled, they'd be short on that necessity until they reach the other side. Yet, she kept it to herself, making sure that Nick didn't realise what she and his uncle had been talking about, and carried on chewing her fish quietly.

It was freezing with the sun no longer beaming down, but no snow fell down on top of them as the group got ready to settle down. Taking first watch, Charlotte sat down near the water's edge and, using ingenuity with some of the stuff that was lying around, she crafted a fishing pole and tried to catch some more fish to feed the group tomorrow. Left alone, the scenery was peaceful, serene, and the glow of the burning fire kept her back warm as she stayed near the edge. With no moon in the skies, she was left in the darkness, keeping an ear out for any danger that could come stumbling out of the forests, though thankful that there was vegetation lining the edge of the woodlands that would make some noise if anything tried to walk through it.

It reminded her of being back on the road before they came to North Carolina.

After an hour passed, she only managed to reel in another small fish, tossing it in the fish box to keep it cool until they would eat it, before throwing her line back in the lake. A shuffling sound behind her reached her ears, causing Charlotte's head to snap in the direction it was coming from, tense and ready to raise the alarm if it was danger. However, upon seeing the small, familiar outline, she calmed down and returned to her fishing, keeping her voice low to avoid waking up the others. "Shouldn't you be in bed, Clem?"

"I couldn't sleep." The little girl confessed, sitting down in the empty spot by Charlotte's side. The older of the two didn't object, in fact grateful for some company during the lonely hours of watch, and just listened as Clementine asked quietly. "Can you teach me?"

"Hmm? You mean how to fish?" Clementine nodded at that, and so Charlotte sighed softly while passing the improvised rod over to the child, making sure she had a good grip on it to stop them from losing the tool if a strong enough fish yanked on it. Once she was comfortable enough that Clementine had a hold on it, she allowed her to do it on her own, sitting there while taking in the sights. "When you feel the rod pulling, that's when you start reeling in."

"Okay."

She'd give this one to Clementine, when she was determined to learn something, she could learn it insanely fast. Sure enough, she managed to pull in another small fish, letting Charlotte unhook it and throw it in the box for breakfast tomorrow. She could smell it already, her stomach still hungry even after the fish that they had before. Closing the box, she relaxed once more, leaning back onto the ground with her arms propped up behind her head, watching the stars twinkle in the distance. From beside her, she heard Clementine pipe up slowly. "We're not gonna be able to see the farm one day, are we?"

Charlotte said nothing, and with that, it was just confirmation for Clementine's already shaky beliefs. "I know you were only trying to make me feel better. It alright, sometimes things just don't work out."

"I don't know what'll happen, darlin', but that doesn't mean that it certainly won't happen. Maybe one day, we'll be able to make our own farm, even if we can't go back to my old one." Charlotte explained, desperate to keep everyone's spirits lifted during this journey. It was far to easy to give in to despair.

Clementine seemed unconvinced however, her eyes hidden away in the shadows casted by the brim of her hat. Seemingly unwilling to carry on the conversation, she turned her attention back to the task at hand, focusing on catching enough fish to feed the group tomorrow while Charlotte carried on lying there, unsure what to say or do to make the little girl feel better. Lips pulled down into a deep frown, she sighed quietly to herself, waiting for the next person to come and take over watch duty from her.


	14. The Decimated Garden of Eden

Everyone was exhausted. Long five days had passed since they left the cabin, traveling further north while taking few pit stops to scavenge and rest. During that time, the strain on the group was clear to see, people's tempers short and arguments a common occurrence, especially when Pete's health started to fail with his leg. Unable to walk for long, the group was forced to take breaks more and more often to catch their breath back, carrying on further up the mountains that lined the border between North Carolina and Virginia. The trees became fewer in the numbers the higher they climbed, and with very few towns around them, food was becoming more of a problem for them.

After finding a secluded spot to rest for the night, the group kept to themselves throughout the night, too strained out and miserable to keep up the good vibes. Even Omid was finding it difficult to keep positive in their predicament. When dawn came, they were greeted with snowfall that happened over the night. It fell heavier than it did back down the mountain range.

Sitting on top of a large boulder, Charlotte watched over the group below as they started packing their things up; Christa and Omid taking down the snow covered tarp and packing it away until the next time they settled down. From up on her spot, she could see further down the path moving through the mountains, gazing across the vast forests that covered the mountains and the trenches between them. It was almost beautiful. Peeking from behind the cover of the mountains, the sun's rays lit up the earth, giving off little warmth from where Charlotte was sitting, but seeing the once deep navy blue skies light up into greens, yellows and lighter blues was a stunning experience.

Down below, she heard Dylan call out. "Here, Charlie, catch!"

Glancing in his direction, she was quick in grabbing a small object that was thrown up from where Dylan was standing, holding it tightly when she noticed it was a pair of binoculars, the object having been used by the group these past few days to check out the way ahead. Peering through them, she stood up on top of the boulder to get her better leverage, trying to see if she could spot anything in the distance that could help them. Out of the cover of trees down below, she could see smoke rising up into the skies, thick and dark as she felt her heart drop, recognizing that type of smoke. Something was burning, or had been destroyed. Lowering the binoculars, she turned down to face her group and shouted. "Guys, there's something going on down in a town below!"

"A town?" Mason replied, the map in his hands when he looked it over again, trying to figure out exactly where they were in accordance to what Charlotte found. Slowly, he glanced back up at his sister and revealed. "There's a small town just down the mountain path. Eden."

"Looks like something went down there. We best avoid that place and keep moving." Charlotte suggested, carefully jumping down from the boulder and landing roughly on her feet, some of the snow crunching under her winter boots. Giving the binoculars back to Dylan, she placed her hands on her hips, waiting for her brothers to gather around her before asking softly. "Any other place around here that we can find some food?"

"There's another town along the road from Eden, but it'll take a couple of hours to get there on foot." Mason pointed out, looking up from his map and adding. "The group's pretty hungry. We ain't gonna last any longer if we don't find some food soon."

"We could just check out the town down below for anything." Dylan suggested, earning some glares from Charlotte and Mason before he defended himself with a scowl. "It may be bad there, but we haven't eaten in days and we're outta food! I don't think all of us are gonna make the trip to this other town if we don't at least try and find something to eat."

"As much as I don't like the idea of setting foot anywhere near that place, Dylan isn't exactly wrong." Mason agreed, turning his attention back to Charlotte while she thought about it, crossing her arms over her chest while listening to their case. "Pete's starting to get real weak with his bad leg, and if we add starvation to the mix, it ain't gonna end pretty."

Charlotte didn't like it. She really didn't like it, the idea of just walking into a town that was smoking and obviously had activity going on inside it, but the pains of hunger gripped her terribly and pushed any rational thinking out of her mind. After debating with herself, she nodded in agreement, watching the twin brothers sigh in relief while she muttered. "Y'all ain't wrong there, we do need some food badly. Alright."

With their plan set, she walked past them and towards the rest of their group, who had nearly packed everything away when she addressed them loudly. "There's a town down this path where we can look around for supplies. Problem is, there looks like something's happened there recently, so we need to be on our guard for anything."

"I don't like the sound of that." Christa pointed out, passing Omid their rucksack while frowning deeply, turning her head to face Charlotte. "We don't know what it'll be like down there. Could be full of walkers, or worse."

"Not much we can do while running on fumes. If we wanna be able to make it through these mountains, we'll have to bite the bullet and just do this." Charlotte sighed, brushing a stray hair behind her ear while Christa said no more, likely knowing there was no arguing with anyone when they were starving and exhausted. So, turning her attention to Pete, she approached him and his nephew, both of them taking a spot near some more huge rocks that Pete had been sitting up against.

After days of on the run and limited food, he looked like shit. Skin paler than usual and sweat rolling down the side of his face, he wiped it away as she kneeled down in front of him, only sharing a quick glance with Nick before turning her attention back to the injured survivor. "How're ya holdin' up, Pete?"

"My leg feels like it's on fire, and I feel like shit." He confessed, refraining from touching his leg as any movement near the area of the wound caused him intense pain. Charlotte, being as careful as she could, moved the leg slightly to get a better look at the bandaged wound. After using the last of their bandages, it's been days since it had been changed, and she could tell from the dried blood and dirt ingrained into the once soft fabric that it would no doubt get infected if they didn't find something to take care of it.

From her side, she heard Nick comfort his uncle. "You're gonna be alright, Uncle Pete. We'll find the medicine we need soon."

"We'll head out in a minute. Do you want me to help him for the trip down?" Charlotte asked, looking up at Nick as she noticed the grown man thinking. He looked like he was about to decline, but then started rubbing his shoulder, obviously stiff and sore from carrying his uncle's weight these past few days. Soon enough, he conceded and agreed, allowing Charlotte to help Pete to his feet. "Come on, man. We still got a lil' while to go before we can start talking about treating that there leg of yours."

He was heavy.  _Really_ heavy. Given his built physique, even when some of the starvation ate away at his muscles and fat reserves left in his body, he was no lightweight and charlotte found herself grunting slightly with effort before they were comfortable enough to be able to move. Arm slung over her shoulder, she was slow walking towards the others as they waited for her. Christa took the lead again, walking down the path with Mason and Sam by her sides, the former holding the map and giving directions as they slowly trudged along. Kept to the back, at least she was kept company by Nick lurking behind with her, though she was certain it was to keep an eye on his uncle rather than put up with her endearing conversational topics.

"See, told you we'd make it through the mountains." She pointed out to Pete, flashing him a grin while he didn't seem all in a positive mood.

"Don't count all your eggs yet, we ain't even passed the border into Virgina yet." He groaned, practically hopping on one leg while his injured one swung uselessly, no longer able to bear any of his weight. The snow made it more difficult to walk through, a small path following after them while they walked along the worn path, soon to be lost when fresh snow would fall. After Pete's reply, Charlotte decided to keep quiet instead, listening to the cold, winter wind blowing through the vast emptiness, save only for the distant calls of birds that were soaring through the skies above.

"I don't feel right about this." Nick piped up suddenly, grabbing Charlotte's attention as he carried on staring at the smoke up ahead, obviously unnerved with what had happened there. "We should just bypass that place. This plan's gonna fail."

"Thanks for the lift up, Nick." Charlotte replied sarcastically, before sighing softly to herself when she found herself agreeing with him. If they had any other choice, she would avoid that place at all cost, but unfortunately their hands were tied.

"We ain't gonna get anywhere if we don't check it out." Dylan snapped from in front, walking beside Clementine and Omid with his hands shoved in his pockets, desperately trying to protect himself from the biting frost.

"Yeah, and that place looks so safe." Nick shot back, glaring down at the teenage boy, who returned the look tenfold. The air in the group grew heavy, tense, and Charlotte knew that another argument would surely happen if she didn't get involved.

"Guys, come on. We ain't gonna fix anything we just keep arguing with each other." She snapped, looking at both the culprits with narrowed eyes as she carried on chastising them. "The town's dangerous, and we don't know if we ain't just walkin' into a shit ton of walkers, but we can't just go around when most of us are ready to drop down, we need the food. So, please, can both of you just  _shut the fuck up._ "

"She's right. All this arguing ain't helpin' us. Nick, you gotta calm down, son." Pete joined in, trying to reign in his nephew's volatile temper.

However, it only seemed to make things worse amongst them, as Nick's face fell even more grim, ice blue eyes narrowing and eyebrows furrowing deeply. Charlotte watched unnervingly, ready to jump in if the whole thing went to shit, but even she was unprepared when Nick asked bitterly. "Why do you always do this? Acting like it's always my fault, always giving me a hard time?"

"Because you always give everyone else a hard time! Considering when we first met Charlotte and her brother, you nearly shot him in the back. Never did apologise for that." Pete admonished. Even Dylan was growing uncomfortable with the confrontation, deciding to leave it with his hand on Clementine's shoulder, guiding her closer to him and Omid while the group kept walking along.

From the front, Christa finally stepped in and sternly told the grown men off. "You guys are gonna let every walker in the area know we're here with your shouting. Shut up!"

Nick and Pete ignored her however, both too engrossed in their long over-due truths coming out to light. Growling under his breath, Nick turned his upper body and turned his attention to Charlotte, apologizing like a child who was forced to do so by a parent. "Okay, I'm sorry for nearly shooting you. There, you happy?"

"Look, guys, it's fine. We've moved on from that." Charlotte interjected, even though her input was ignored by the others.

"You know what Nick, you gotta learn a lesson sooner or later." Pete sighed, shaking his head with a deep frown on his face.

"What, that you're an asshole?"

"That the world's not gonna give a goddamn whether you like something or not! Sweet Jesus, Mary and Joseph, son, you gotta learn to grow up and stop looking for a fight everywhere!" Nick was taken aback by that, everyone was, Carlos staying out of the argument likely with knowing that trying to stop it was futile, instead pausing with the rest of the group. Silence filled the air, awkward and heavy that weighed down on Charlotte, stuck in between the bickering family with Pete still leaning against her, not backing down when Nick stood there, eyes moving slightly as he thought over what had just happened.

After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, he just stared at Pete with a scowl and shook his head, turning around and skulking off with his rifle in his hands. Watching again, Pete groaned and called out. "Leaving us again?"

"I can see where the fucking town is." Nick shot back coldly, passing Christa and Mason as the two watched him go, not bothering to call him back with their words likely to fall on deaf ears.

Unwilling to let him get too far, they carried on walking, Charlotte frowning to herself when she heard Pete mutter to himself. "That damn kid."

"You didn't exactly help matters there." She pointed out cooly, staring ahead at the neverending forests and winding paths coiling down the mountains. "I didn't even care that he didn't apologise, I moved on, Dylan moved on. But bringing that up just to hold it above him was a pretty low move, Pete. Maybe the reason he keeps getting on people's cases if because you won't stop getting on his?"

Pete said nothing to that, but she could see that her words got him thinking. Recalling their conversation the first night they left the cabin, she wondered if Pete was thinking he was just raising Nick to be tough, to be able to handle whatever the world would throw at him, but after Nick confessed to her that he wasn't built for that, she didn't think that it would end all too well. At least she made her opinion known. After the arguments died down again, everyone just went back to walking in silence, or having odd conversations with each other to stem the boredom. Soon enough, Charlotte felt her shoulder ache from supporting Pete's weight, exhausted from carrying him down the path, but when she looked ahead again, she spotted the town nearby and felt a new spark of determination hit her, giving her the energy needed to finish the last part of the walk.

"Hey, over here!" Nick suddenly shouted, catching everyone's attention as the group approached him, finding the tall survivor standing in front of an old sign that had been graffitied with white spray paint. Getting to the front of the others with Pete in tow, Charlotte looked up at the sign with raised eyebrows, surprised with what they found while Nick grumbled. "I guess this place wasn't abandoned for long."

 _No more space left in Eden._ The words were dried on, suggesting that they were there for some time before they came along. Slowly, she glanced past the sign to the smoking town, finding that a wall had been erected around Eden to protect it from the walkers and bandits that plagued them. However, even from where they stood, she could see that the wall had been caved in by something, the sheets of metal torn and crumpled down. It didn't look good, but hunger drove the group on as they approached the destroyed front gate. It was eerie. No one living greeted them when they finally stopped in front of the wall, Christa moving towards the hole and peering in before calling back to them. "This place looks deserted."

"What's happened here?" Omid asked, following Christa into the community through the hole in the wall, keeping the kids near him for safety. Carlos helped Pete and Charlotte throw, sharing some of the weight so that the grown woman didn't struggle too much climbing over the debris, careful not to slice her leg on the congregated metal. Once inside, she heard Omid pipe up again. "Did walkers get in here?"

"This was no pissin' match with walkers here." Pete replied grimly, looking around at the carnage created. Bodies were littered near the destroyed gate, either looking like they were ran over by something or, worse, were filled in with numerous bullet holes. Behind them, the few houses within the suburbia were boarded up and abandoned, or torched by whoever killed these people. No walker could've done this amount of damage.

"What'd you think happened then?" She asked Pete, walking along the road with the others as they spotted an overturned truck.

"Someone's done this. Let's see if we can find anything in that truck." He pointed out, nodding at the vehicle. With the skid marks on the road, it was safe to say that whoever destroyed Eden used that truck to plow through the wall. Pausing in front of it, she left Carlos to hold onto Pete while she hopped up on the overturned cab, peering through the smashed side window inside to see what was there. No one was left there, likely having managed to escape during the confusion and fighting, so standing up straight, she peered down at her group.

"Ain't nobody in here!" She called out, preparing herself to jump back down on the tarmac while the others looked around. Grunting on impact, she straighted herself out and approached Pete again, who had been left leaning against an abandoned car while Carlos took the opportunity to check his injuries again, kneeling in front of the bandaged leg. "Where'd we go from here?"

"We should get the fuck outta here." Nick interrupted, coming out of nowhere and stopping by Charlotte's side as all three turned to look at him.

Pete had to disagree however, glancing back at Charlotte as he argued. "We should look for survivors."

"What?! Why?!" Nick snapped, holding tightly onto his rifle while looking over his shoulder, rightfully paranoid with the state of the community they were in. His loud bark caught the attention of everyone else, the whole group gathering around as the argument carried on.

"Someone could be alive here." Carlos pointed out, turning his attention back to Pete's leg while adding. "They could tell us what happened, or who did this."

"Think about it. This is exactly what Carver does." Nick's words caused everyone to go on edge. On instinct, Charlotte slipped a hand on Mason's shoulder, keeping him close to her protectively while the others watched grimly, no one saying anything until Carlos shattered the silence.

"Carver's been extending his reach out of his community. He's a Darwinist, survival of the fittest mentality, and those that are competition or who he deems too weak to survive without being led by him… met this fate." They watched a nearby home burning. The building creaked and groaned while the flames kept burning through the smashed windows, some of it having already collapsed under the immense heat and weakened structures. Charlotte didn't want to think about the possibility of people being in there. Turning away, Carlos finished with a dark tone laced in his voice. "That's why we left, and why it was too dangerous for you and your people to stay in your cabin."

"Chances are, when he eventually found you guys, that's what woulda happened." Pete added, motioning at the burning wreck.

A lump lodged itself in Charlotte's throat at the thought of that, finding it difficult to swallow as she tried to put that thought at the back of her mind, instead turning the topic back to Pete's leg when she asked the doctor. "How's it lookin'?"

"It's become infected. The leg has swollen and Pete's still in pain from it. If we don't find antibiotics soon, he could get worse." There was a sense of urgency in those words.

Nodding, Charlotte turned to the rest of the group and took over leadership, pointing further down the road at what looked like a built up centre for the community. "We could try looking in there. We might find supplies that we need."

"It's unlikely. If it was Carver that did this, then he'll have taken everything from these people, but I guess we don't have much of a choice." Pete sighed, accepting Carlos' hand as he was pulled off the car he was leaning against for support. Helping Pete up with his arm around his shoulder, Carlos nodded to Charlotte and, with that signal, the group started making their way down the main road towards the abandoned centre.

More bodies littered the road, and not all of them were as dead as they seemed. Spotting a couple of walkers feasting on a corpse on the front lawn of another home, Charlotte signalled silently to the others, pulling free her machete as she and the other more capable survivors approached the group, leaving the kids with Christa and Sam, the dog staying protectively by the pregnant woman's side. Dylan by her side, they managed to catch the walkers off guard as Charlotte cleaved the top of one of the corpse's skull, causing it to drop the handfuls of flesh it was munching on and collapse to the ground.

Without missing a beat, Dylan shoved the blade of his knife into the skull of a walker beside the first one, managing to pull it out easily. With the sound and movement, the other walkers knew of their presence now, dropping what they were eating as they growled loudly in want.

Backing slightly, Charlotte spotted Omid whacking one of them in the face with the butt of his rifle, though her attention was soon brought to the last couple of walkers that were approaching them. Weapon in hand, she swung with most of her might, the blade connecting with the walker's neck and severed its head from its shoulders, the head tumbling across the floor as blood spouted from the open throat wound. Getting some of the blood splattered on her face, Charlotte winced and backed up, letting Dylan deal with the last walker as he kicked it in the shin, stomping down on its head when it was down.

Wiping the disgusting blood off her face with her sleeve, she blinked slowly, thankfully avoiding getting any of the blood in her eyes. For a split moment, the air was calm, serene even, although there was no birdsong or a soft breeze blowing through, and the silence started to get to her. Sheathing her machete, she turned to her younger brother, finding him standing there with his hand stretch out, ready to give her a high five. Smiling warmly, she returned the gesture with an affectionate. "Good job there, bud."

He grinned at her praise, shoving his knife in his back pocket while they carried on walking. For a community that was recently alive and clearly thriving, there were not many people, dead or alive, left behind in the wreckage. It set Charlotte on edge. Only when they reached the centre, quickly revealed to be an old convenience store with some kind of storage on the upper floor, did she see the aftermath of the attack, stopping in her tracks as she stared at the building with widened eyes. Unlike many of the other buildings, the centre wasn't burning, but was bordered up with no visible way in, especially since a destroyed lamp post had fallen and knocked over the awning hanging over the front door, blocking off the entrance.

Dylan approached it, looking over the wreckage in front of them before calling out over his shoulder. "This ain't good. Can we look for another way in?"

"Search around the area." Charlotte ordered, walking up to her brother. "Come on, you can help me."

Pleased that he could help her out, Dylan jogged after her as they walked around the building and away from the mess blocking the front door. Eden was by no means a big community, or even a big town before the dead rose, so there was only so many places the group could search before they would have to move on, especially so if Carver had gotten his clutches on this place and their supplies. Slipping around to the back, she paused when she spotted an abandoned car parked by the wall, approaching it while Dylan piped up. "I'll see if we can find a way in."

"Keep close by." She instructed, unwilling to let him wander too far from her. With a sharp nod, the both of them went off to check out their respective areas, Charlotte approaching the car and giving it the once over. The paint was peeling away, already resting from being exposed to the elements for months, the windows dirty with handprints all over the windows, almost as if something was trying to get in. Unnerved, she walked to the side of it, peering through the window to see if there was anything inside.

There was nothing in the front seats, no bodies or anything of use, and the back seats yield the same results, likely picked clean a long time ago. Still, Charlotte was nothing if not persistent as she moved around it, pausing in front of the boot while she tried to see if she could get it open. No luck. Sighing in disappointment, she was ready to give up when she heard Dylan yell. "Charlie, come here!"

Intrigued, she followed after the sound of her brother's voice, leaving the boot alone while she kept an eye on her surroundings. Dylan hadn't wandered far, standing nearby the car and staring up at something. Following his gaze, she listened as he explained. "There seems to be an open window up there. We could get in through there."

"It's pretty high up." She pointed out, glancing down at Dylan with a frown. "I could lift you up there, but you ain't gonna be able to pull me up."

Dylan appeared thoughtful at that, looking around for something while Charlotte turned back to the window. She wondered to herself how the group could get up there, especially Pete with his bad leg, that was, until her brother caught her attention again with a jab in the side with his elbow. Rubbing it with a scowl, she glared at him while he pointed at something. "What about that?"

It was a dumpster. Left alone for God knows how long, it would give them enough height to be able to climb through the window. Humming in approval, she walked up to the dumpster, pulling on the handle at the side to see if it would easy to move, but to no avail. It was likely filled with trash. Struggling, she turned to Dylan and grunted roughly. "Give us a hand with this, will ya?"

He was amused with her futile attempts, smirking to himself before deciding to help her out after all. Getting on the other side of the dumpster, both of them groaned with the effort it took to move the immensely heavy object, slowly but surely pushing it along on squeaky wheels towards the graffitied wall. Suddenly, the weight started to get too much for Charlotte, the grown woman struggling to stop the dumpster from colliding her into the parked car, feet digging into the concrete and straining. Luckily, she stopped it before she was pushed harshly into the car, Charlotte panting softly before explaining to Dylan. "Careful there, bud. One knock on this car and it could trip the alarm. We don't want walkers in the whole area coming down on us."

"Right, sorry." He apologised, pulling on the dumpster just as Charlotte pushed. With the combined efforts of the siblings, they managed to get the heavy object back against the wall, Dylan wasting no time in catching his breath as he hopped up. Straightening himself up on top of the dumpster, he glanced up at the first floor window, stretching out his arms to see if he could reach, though his fingers barely touched the windowsill from where he was standing.

Huffing to himself, he jumped up with a soft grunt, his fingers digging into the broken window and, with much struggling, he managed to pull himself up and through the window. Charlotte stood there silently, looking over her shoulder when she thought she heard something behind her, only to be met with nothing but silence and empty alleyways. Suddenly, she heard rustling and curses thrown from up in the building, her heart pounding wildly as she called out in panic. "Dylan, you alright in there?!"

He didn't reply. The panic crept over her, Charlotte wasting no time in hopping up on top of the dumpster and, due to her superior height on her brother, grabbed hold of the windowsill. The muscles in her arms, worn and exhausted just like her legs, ached terribly as she pulled herself through the window, managing to get her upper body through the open window before pausing to catch her breath. Peering in, she saw that the entire upper floor of the building was plunged in darkness, only the little sunlight that could get through the boarded up front windows giving them light. In front of her, she spotted Dylan look around, thankfully unharmed as she snapped. "Why'd you not reply to me?! I was worried sick out there!"

"Sorry, I just tripped over this box. It so dark in here." He sighed, turning around and offering his hand to his sister. "Here, lemme help you in."

Accepting his hand with not another word on her near panic attack, the both of them struggled as she slipped through the window slowly, nearly collapsing onto the wooden floor before she managed to get her long legs through. Finally inside, she rummaged in her back pocket for her lighter, managing to pull it out and igniting the small flame in hopes that it would give them some light to see. It wasn't much, but when she approached a metal shelf pushed up against the wall in the corner of the room, she was stunned to find that some supplies had managed to survive the onslaught on this community. Whistling, she turned her head to Dylan, who was off looking at something else, and revealed giddily. "Hey, bud, come look at this stuff."

Catching his attention, she straightened herself up and waited for Dylan to reach her side, pleased with his expressions shifting from stunned to relieved in a matter of seconds, his hand reached out to the box and pulling it off the shelf to get a better look inside. Sure enough, pulling out a can of food, he looked at the few other boxes that survived and smiled. "This food could keep us going for a while."

"Go and tell the others, I'll get to packing up this stuff." Charlotte ordered, shrugging her backpack off and leaving it leaned against the metal shelf, flipping the top open as she started pulling boxes off the the shelf and leaving them on the floor. The footsteps behind her echoed through the empty space, Dylan doing as he was told as he hopped back out of the window, him colliding with the metal dumpster below causing a smile on Charlotte's face while she shook her head.

Left alone, she packed away some of the cans inside the labelled box, relieved that they had managed to find something out of this senseless waste of life. One thing on the back of her mind was the eeriness of the building, lifting the lighter as she decided to check around, wondering if there was anything else they could scavenge. Leaving her bag alone, she approached more of the metal shelves that were scattered around the large room. Whoever had lived here before had stashed away a lot of this stuff, even if some were already empty or rotten. Pulling out another box, she was pleased to see bottled water, picking one up to examine it when she heard chatter going on outside the window. Likely the group, she ignored them and got back to what she was doing, shoving some of the bottled water into her backpack.

"Holy shit." Omid's voice called out from behind her, grabbing the grown woman's attention as she looked back at the window, spotting the other survivor struggling to get through the window. Amused by his attempts, she quickly came to his rescue, grabbing hold of his hand and pulling him roughly through, careful not to let him catch himself on the broken shards of glass that were still stuck in the window frame. Once in, he moved about the room, staring at the boxes left behind. "This is awesome. We'll be able to reach Dansville on these supplies, no problem."

"If we ration carefully, we could make it past the border into Virginia on this stuff." Dylan added, squirreling his way through the window while addressing Charlotte. "The others are gonna check out a near pharmacy, see if we can find some antibiotics for Pete's leg. I brought Omid and Nick with me to help carry all this stuff."

Almost as if on cue, Nick appeared in the window, pulling himself in while rejecting any help from the others. Charlotte nodded in response to Dylan's explanation, instead busying herself with packing away the supplies while ordering over her shoulder. "Let's make this quick, then. I don't wanna wait around for anyone to come back."

The others obeyed her orders, scurrying around and hovering any can of food or bottle of water that they could find, taking anything else that they felt would benefit the group in anyway. Scrounging around the back of the shelves, Charlotte spotted something wedged right at the back, reaching with her face pressed against the cool metal frame in hopes to reach it, finding her fingers grazing over what felt plastic. Raising an eyebrow, she managed to grab hold of the cylindrical object, keeping her lighter going to see what she was doing. Finally, she managed to pull it out and held it up to the light of her lighter, surprised to see that it was a flashlight.

"This'll help with looking around." She mumbled, flicking the switch on the side of it. Nothing. Annoyed, she opened the batteries flap at the bottom only to groan to herself. "No batteries. If anyone finds any batteries, give 'em here."

"Here!" Omid called out, jogging back to Charlotte with a couple in his hand. "Found them in a box over there, some CDs and other junk too. Dylan took them for Mason."

"That'll keep them entertained. Thanks, man." Charlotte replied gratefully, shoving her lighter back into her back pocket and taking the batteries from him. With Omid returning to scavenging the first floor with the others, Charlotte shoved the batteries into the flashlight and turned it on, the blinding light coming out of it illuminating the once dark room. Able to see clearly, she noticed some more doors on the other side of the room, curious to see what was inside them.

Before she would though, she decided to check up on Nick, recalling the harsh arguments between him and Pete before. Approaching him, he either didn't see her or was trying his best to ignore her, carrying on with what he was doing while Charlotte, rather awkwardly, called out to him softly. "How're you doin', Nick?"

"Fine." His response was quick. Almost too quick to be true, though Charlotte didn't exactly want to push his buttons too much.

Rubbing the top of her arm, she glanced at Dylan and Omid as they cheerfully talked about the few days on the road, clearly having a better time than she was. Silently, she looked back at Nick and tried to converse with him again. "That shit before with Pete… He's harsh, I get it, but you do know he does care about you, right?"

"Sure looked like it." Nick snapped, stopping in what he was doing to turn around and glare heavily at Charlotte. Crossing her arms over her chest, she listened with a saddened expression as the grown man quietly complained to her, trying not to grab the others' attention. "He's been like this since as far as I could remember. 'Nick, you gotta grow up' and 'Life's not always fair, son'. He's more than just harsh, Charlotte, he's a mean old bastard."

Recalling their conversation on the first night, Charlotte confessed to the angered man. "The first night we spent on the road, he talked to me. He does care about you, Nick, but I think that raising you the way he did has left the both of you feeling… I dunno, angry? If you just try to talk with hi-"

"Ain't gonna happen. Everytime we try to talk about things, it always ends up in a fight." Nick rejected, narrowing his eyes as he spat. "This ain't your business. Just leave me alone, I need to focus on this."

Dejected, Charlotte nodded solemnly and, with the conversation out of the way, Nick returned to scavenging through the boxes for anything that would be useful to the group. Silently, she stared at him for a few more seconds, before returning her attention to the doors leading to somewhere else. Flashlight in hand, she called to the others over her shoulder. "I'm gonna check these rooms out. Keep an eye out."

"Will do." Dylan replied, helping Omid pack up the last of a shelf before they started picking clean the final shelf in the room, helping Nick to clear the room while Charlotte approached the doors. Stopping in front of the first one, her hand froze above the door knob, something feeling off to her, as if something wasn't right. She'd have to be careful. Plucking up the courage, she turned the door knob and, slowly, opened the door to peer inside, wincing at the grating creaks that the old door gave off.

It seemed that whoever lived here turned this store and storage rooms into somewhere to live. Dirty old mattresses were left on the floor, numerous of them about the large storage room that suggested that a lot of people were sleeping in this single room. As soon as she walked in, the stench of death and mold hit her full force, causing Charlotte to gag while desperately trying to pull up her bandana in hopes that it would keep the smell at bay. One hand on her face and another gripping the flashlight, she hovered it over the mattresses, overlooking the unmade blankets left abandoned and comics that were left open on one of them, and instead paying attention to a suspicious blood stain on the floor in the corner. A trail came from it, moving towards the unboarded window as Charlotte approached it.

Nervously, she noticed the blood stains on the once white windowsill, peering out of the broken window and down onto the streets below, finding a corpse down below, lying facing up to the skies with a puddle of blood underneath it. Backing off, she muttered under her breath. "Jesus."

Pressed up against the wall beside the window was a couple of crates, too tough for her to be able to open, but it was a piece of paper on top of it that caught Charlotte's attention. Picking it up in one hand, she used the light of the window to read it, keeping the flashlight pointing to the floorboards while she read it outloud. "There's no cure, no hope anymore. We boarded ourselves in here to be safe, but they found out about my bite, locking me in here to die. I don't want to die. Please, I don't want to die, but I won't become one of them at least. May God have mercy on our souls."

The note ended there. Putting it back where she came from, Charlotte turned back to the window, able to piece together what happened that forced the poor survivor to jump out of the window, and with a heavy heart, she muttered. "Fuck..."

Nothing in the room worth taking, she left it alone, walking back out of the bedroom and turning to go through the other door on the upper floor. Before she could grab the handle, she was interrupted by Dylan approaching her, rucksack back on his shoulders while he explained. "We've picked this place clean. You ready to go?"

"You guys can go on ahead, I just wanna check this room to make sure we didn't miss anything."

Dylan was apprehensive about leaving her alone, glancing back at the others before offering. "I'll stick with you on this, watch your back. The others can get back to the group and tell them about the supplies we found."

"Good idea. Go and tell Omid and Nick, I'll just check in here." Dylan agreed with that plan, turning around and rejoining the other survivors in the other room while Charlotte turned her attention back to the door. Turning the door knob, she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion when the door only moved an inch, as if something was blocking the other side. She couldn't push it open by herself, and so she went over to Dylan to get his help, finding him by the window talking to the others who had already jumped through.

"If anything goes south, our meeting point is east of here, on the outskirts of town. You guys can't make it there, we'll meet up in Dansville, alright?" He instructed through the window, unaware of Charlotte standing there.

A voice, likely to be Omid's, replied from the ground below. "Alright. Be careful, you two."

"Always am." Dylan retorted, smirking before backing away from the window. Noticing Charlotte standing there, he appeared surprised for a moment, moving his gaze from her to the doors on the other side of the room and back to her again, all before piping up. "You finished checking it out, yet?"

"Nah, the door's stuck on something. I need your help getting it open." She revealed, pointing behind her with her thumb before walking back to the door, Dylan following behind her while shaking his head. By the door again, she pressed her shoulder against it, waiting for Dylan to get into position against the door before muttering to him. "On the count of three, we push together. Ready? One, two, three!"

On cue, the siblings slammed against the door as hard as they could, and sure enough, she felt whatever was blocking it on the other side shift slightly, spurring her on to praise Dylan. "Good job, bud, but we gotta do it again. One, two, three!"

Another rough shove. The door opened more, inch by inch as they carried on trying to shove it open, their shoulders slamming against the door harshly echoing through the air for a split second before disappearing. When the door was opened enough that they could slip in, Charlotte's shoulder ached something terrible, her free hand holding onto the joint as she rolled it sorely, a grimace on her face before she sighed. "Let's see what we got in here."

"Whatever's in there, someone  _really_ didn't want us to get it." Dylan pointed out, suffering from the same stiff shoulder as he followed Charlotte into the room. Unlike the other one, the window was bordered up tight, preventing most of the sunlight from getting in besides through the small cracks, and so the room was left in near pitch darkness. Flashlight in hand, she shone the light over the cramped room, finding another mattress inside, but as she moved further inside, she felt something off with the room.

"I don't like this. Something feels off." She confessed, keeping a hand in front of Dylan to keep him by her side and safe. From his tense body and narrowed eyes, he obviously felt the same as she did, glancing around the room nervously as Charlotte pushed what was blocking the door, which turned out to be an overturned cabinet, out of the way to get in further. The air was cold, lifeless, and before she could back out of the room and the nervous energy in it, her flashlight shone over something that made her stomach flip.

Snarls and growls suddenly filled the room. Countless walkers, likely the other survivors that had shoved the deceased bite victim in the other room, infested the room, more than she could see as more seemingly materialised out of the darkness. Dylan yelled in fright as Charlotte turned and, with an arm wrapped around his waist, launched the teen out of the bedroom. Before she could escape, hands grabbed hold of her long hair, wrenching her head back painfully as she cried out in agony, trying to free herself from the immense grip. Pain seared through her scalp as she pulled hard, feeling her hair being ripped out of her scalp as she managed to free herself and stumble out of the room.

Tears pricking in the corners of her eyes, she felt the back of her head, feeling a small bald spot from where the walker had torn her hair off, but there was no time crying over it. The walkers were stumbling out of the room, jaws gnashing at the living survivors as Dylan helped Charlotte to her feet, the both of them scrambling to the window and their ticket out of the death trap. Her bag was gone, most likely taken by the other when they left to rejoin the group, and without the extra weight to carry, Charlotte was certainly fast. However, with the promise of food after God knows how long, the walkers were faster too, chasing after the survivors when they finally reached the window.

"You first!" Charlotte ordered, helping Dylan through the window before glancing over her shoulder, staring at the swarm of walkers approaching the duo quickly, hands stretched out in hopes to get a grip on her again. Back of her head aching, she pulled herself up into the window frame, spotting Dylan waiting for her down below before feeling something slam into her back from behind her.

The momentum caused her to lose her footing, a sharp cry coming from Charlotte as she tried to turn around and grab hold of the windowsill for balance, but everything happened to quickly for her to react properly, and sure enough she plunged down a floor. Wind whistling in her ear for a split second, all went dark as she felt her back collide with the abandoned car she searched beforehand. Her vision blurred terribly, the ringing in her ears meaning that she couldn't hear the growls of the walkers up above them, or Dylan's panicked shouting as he ran to her side, nor was she able to feel his hands pulling on her jacket until her vision started clearing up.

Body aching all over, she lifted her head from the windscreen, the glass cracked from where she smacked her head against. Everywhere hurt, almost too much for her to move if it wasn't for the blaring car alarm banging in her ears. Glancing around, she allowed Dylan to help her up and off the car bonnet, her legs almost collapsing under her weight before she managed to right herself up. Dylan wasted no time, his words lost to her with the ringing still occuring in her ears, her head pounded while he wrapped her arm around his shoulders and near enough dragged her off into the main street of the community, hoping to find the others and get outta Eden before the blaring alarm brought the whole area down on them.

Once they were out of the alleyway, they froze when they saw ahead of them, Dylan shaking his head as he muttered. "Oh no…"

There were people left in Eden, but they were no longer alive and ready to listen to reason. Out of the buildings and from their hiding spots in the streets, huge groups of walkers crawled and shuffled to where the car alarm was blaring, and where Dylan and Charlotte were currently standing. With her ears clearing up, Charlotte managed to stand by herself as she unhooked her arm from around her brother's shoulders, keeping him close as she spotted an opening down a side street. Clutching onto his arm, she pulled him in the direction of their escape route.

"Dylan, this way!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	15. Even The Best Laid Plans

"Where'd we go now?!" Dylan's panicked words rang in Charlotte's ears. Her legs ached terribly, lungs burning with every breath she took in, as if starved by oxygen, and even when she pulled her bandana down to take in more air, she still felt light headed and weak. Pausing for a moment to catch her breath, she glanced over her shoulder, spotting the walkers still chasing after her and Dylan no matter where they ran, their growls and moans echoing in the winter air. The teen kept to her side, staring at Charlotte before he quietly pointed out. "You're bleeding from your head?"

Her fingers moved to the back of her skull, feeling the warm liquid oozing out of the wound from the car incident, and when she pulled her hand back, sure enough the digits were stained a deep red. From beside her, Dylan carried on questioning her. "Are you alright? We gotta keep moving!"

"Yeah, I just…" She paused, out of breath and gasping for air as she was nearly bent over in exhaustion. "Just gimme a minute."

Dylan said nothing, but his unnerved expression at the approaching horde was clear as day to her. They didn't have a minute to spare. So, breathing in deeply, she straightened herself out and looked around, trying to find somewhere they could hide out or outrun the walkers. Still trapped in the walls around the community, there was very little places they could hide out in that wasn't infested with the undead. However, she was cut off by Dylan pointing out. "We can try and hide in there!"

Following his finger, she noticed a large truck left at the other end of the road they were running along, crates nearby likely to have been loaded into it if it weren't for the attack on Eden beforehand. With no other place, she tried to keep up with her brother as the both of them sprinted down the road, their footsteps crunching against the little snow left on the tarmac. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted more walkers, intrigued by the sounds of potential living target, crawling out from inside buildings or from underneath abandoned vehicles that littered the road. With Dylan running ahead, she watched as he dove to the side to avoid a walker that lunged for him, his hands touching the tarmac before he managed to push himself off again and keep running.

With the teenage boy having gotten past it, the walker turned its attention to Charlotte, trying to grab hold of her before she pulled out her machete and sliced it at the knee, managing to sever important tendons that rendered the walker unable to use that leg. No time to finish it off, she left the cripped corpse lying down on the ground as she followed after Dylan, finding him stabbing a walker in the side of its head before another one managed to dig its fingers into the sleeve of his jacket, yanking him towards it. Attempting to free himself, he called out for his sibling. "Charlie, help!"

Wasting no time, she rushed to his aid. Dylan struggled, his teeth gritting together as he turned to see more walkers descending on the duo, powerless to free himself until Charlotte ran up to the walker and, unable to think a plan through at the moment, tackled the walker to the ground, allowing Dylan to pull himself free and catch his breath back. The walker snarled from underneath her, fingers gripping at Charlotte's own jacket as she tried to keep its snapping jaws away from it. Grunting in effort, she slammed the walker into the ground roughly, lifting her head away just as Dylan rushed to her side, shoving the blade of his knife into the walker's eye socket, killing it.

Its hands released Charlotte finally, who after breathing a sigh of relief, accepted his hand and pulled herself off the top of the corpse. There was no words of thanks between them, only a small smile shared before the immediate danger forced them to focus once more, the siblings running up to the truck finally. Charlotte reached it first, grabbing the lever to open the back doors and pulling with all her might. Months of neglect and exposure to the elements had left the lever rusted however, and no matter how hard she tried to pry it free, it wasn't coming up by herself. "Shit, this fucking thing won't budge!"

Pulling out his pistol from the back of his jeans, Dylan aimed it at the walkers while shouting back at the struggling Charlotte. "I'll keep the walkers off us, you just find a way in there!"

With that, he fired upon the walkers nearest to them, keeping the undead from descending upon them while Charlotte looked around, trying to find something that could help her in this situation. Heart pounding, she spotted a crowbar resting on the floor next to one of the crates, kneeling down to pluck it up while gunshots rang off near her. Looking up, she saw that Dylan had ceased firing, checking his ammo before growling. "I'm nearly outta ammo! Have you got that fucking thing open yet?!"

"Just gimme a second!" Charlotte snapped, returning to the truck doors with crowbar in hand. Jamming it between the door and the lever, she grunted loudly as she pulled back with all the strength she could muster, hearing a long creaking noise and feeling the lever shifting before suddenly breaking free of the rust, nearly sending her flying as the grown woman stumbled back.

Doors freed, she lifted the lever up and managed to yank the truck door open, turning around to call out to Dylan. "It's open, get it!"

He didn't need to be told twice. Holstering his pistol back into his jeans, he turned on his foot and ran to the doors while Charlotte climbed in the back. Thankfully, there were no walkers waiting inside to ambush them, the older of the two turning around to help Dylan into the truck, grabbing hold of his hand when suddenly he was wrenched to the floor by something. A sharp cry of pain when he collided with the hard ground caused Charlotte to rush to his rescue, hopping out of the truck crying out. "Dylan!"

Before she could come to his rescue, Dylan had managed to free his ankle from a walker that was hiding underneath the truck, kicking it repeatedly in the face before scurrying away into Charlotte's arms, the older sibling helping him to his feet and then shoving him into the truck when the walkers chasing after them caught up. Following in after him, she turned and stared at the endless onslaught of undead rushing after them, slamming the truck door and locking it from the inside before they could get to the two survivors. The truck rocked slightly with the numerous walkers slamming against it, the harsh sound of flesh hitting metal echoing around the small space as Charlotte backed away from the doors, hand hovering over her machete handle with a small fear plaguing her. The thought of the walkers somehow getting through the solid metal doors wouldn't leave her.

Finally, she forced herself to calm down slightly and left her weapon alone, instead turning to Dylan to check up on him. Terrified of their ordeal, he had sat himself on the other end of the truck, his knees pressed up against his chest while his narrowed eyes never left the door, keeping watch in case they were in danger again. Approaching him, she kneeled down by his side and placed a hand on his shoulder, grimacing at how tense he had become and tried to calm him down with a calm tone in her voice. "We should be alright in here. If we keep quiet, they'll eventually give up and move on, then we can get out and look for the others."

"Do you think they're okay? They weren't far away from where we were." Dylan asked, clearly worried for the missing survivors.

Charlotte was too, but he had to stay strong for her brother, and nodded slowly. "I think they'll be just fine. Christa has a good head on her in times of crisis, and the others are no layabouts."

"Yeah, but I just can't help but feel like something's gonna happen." He replied solemnly, glancing down at the floor with a saddened expression. "I just don't want to think about what'll happen."

"Dylan." Her voice was firm, with her hands resting on the top of Dylan's shoulders and forcing him to meet her gaze, trying to keep her little brother from panicking. When he managed to look her in the eyes, she could see the utter fear and confusion within those deep blue eyes, and her voice dropped slightly as she comforted him. "Everything's gonna be alright. I promise, I'll keep you safe."

For a split second, he looked like he was ready to break down and cry in her arms, but that feeling was pushed back, and instead he gave a sharp nod of his head in response. With that sorted for now, she released his shoulders and took a spot near the door again, putting herself between the walkers still banging against it outside and Dylan. Without any windows or openings in the dark space, she would have no idea on how much time had passed, but thankfully she managed to keep hold of the flashlight that she found back in the supplies storage. Rather than sit in the dark waiting, she turned it on and looked around the empty space with it.

There were some crates that had been loaded inside with them. Shuffling over to them carefully, she used the flashlight to allow her to read the stamps on them, finding that they were hardware supplies; nails, screws, things that people typically used in building or DIY. That wouldn't help them in that situation. Leaving the crates alone, she heard Dylan pipe up again. "Charlie?"

"What's up, bud?" She asked, turning back to her brother curiously.

He didn't respond immediately. Rather, he glanced away for a moment, worrying Charlotte enough that she considered asking him what was wrong, if not for him revealing what had been bugging him, looking back at her with a deep frown as he questioned her. "When Mama was bit, back in Texas… How were you and Liz able to react so quickly? Do what you guys had to so that she could live?"

"Bud, what's brought this on?" The memory pained her to remember, and it obviously hurt Dylan badly to mention their mother, but he stood by his question and didn't respond to her question, waiting for her to explain and put his mind to rest. Slowly, she sat down properly, leaning up against the wall with the flashlight pointing at the wall, staring at the circular light while she recalled the incident. "It was mostly Liz helping out, but… I guess something inside me just switched. Mama was hurt, possibly dying, and back then I didn't even know that once you're bit, that's it. I just wanted to save her."

"You did all you could. I just stood there, scared and unsure what to do. I feel that way now." He confessed, leaning the lower part of his face against his knees.

Charlotte smiled sadly at that, kneeling up and shuffling over to her brother before sitting down by his side, wrapping her arm around his shoulders and pulling him close to her, keeping him there while the both of them sat in silence. Staring at the truck doors, she finally confessed. "Mama would be proud of you. You know that right?"

"What makes you think that?" Dylan was doubtful, unsure what he had done in the months that it was just the three of them, and even after Christa, Omid and Clementine had joined up with them, yet it didn't deter Charlotte's point as she inhaled deeply.

"You've grown. When times came that you were wrong and acted on it, you owned up, admitting when you fucked up and tried to make things better. It takes real strength to do that." She pointed out, glancing down at the teen with a warm smile on her face, only highlighted with the shining beam coming from her flashlight. "And you've saved my hide many times, like back in Mansfield, when I was attacked by walkers. Do you remember?"

A nod was her only response. "Then there was the skills that you have that contributed to the survival of the group. Do you think we woulda had as easy a time as we did if you weren't with us? I certainly didn't know how to skin animals, or to use that car trick back in Albemarle so that we could gather those supplies. You're not as useless as you think you are, bud."

"I guess you're right…" He confessed, a small smile on his face visible from where Charlotte was sitting, even if he tried to hide his lifted spirits with a more controlled tone in his voice. "I'm exhausted."

"You can grab a few hours while we wait out these walkers. I'll keep an eye out." With the older survivor keeping watch and making sure it was safe, Dylan found it easy to fall asleep, his weight against her shoulder increasing and before long, she could make out the soft snoring coming from beside her.

Chuckling to herself, she left him be leaning against her and stretched out her legs, trying to get as comfortable as was possible sitting on a solid floor for ages. When she finally managed to get comfy enough to keep still, she rested the flashlight on her lap, staring at the small crack running down the middle of the doors that a miniscule amount of light could get through. After a while, the walkers had started losing interest in the truck, but it still wasn't safe enough for them to leave yet, as Charlotte could still make out the distant groans of the walkers roaming around just outside. They would have to keep waiting. As time passed on, her own doubts started haunting her again with no one around to distract her.

Her group, her other little brother, were still out there somewhere, whether they were alive or not was unknown to her at that moment. Hell, she didn't even know if they assumed she was still alive, her and Dylan both. It was unnerving. Heart-wrenching even, and the worst thing was that she had no chance of finding out until the both of them were able to get out of the truck they had trapped themselves in. Eager to distract herself, she spotted Dylan's backpack left beside him, and wondered if she could find anything in there to pass the time. Slowly, as to not disturb the sleeping boy beside her, she reached over to the rucksack and managed to slip a finger through the loop at the top of it, pulling it over onto her lap without awakening Dylan.

Pleased with herself, she opened up and rummaged through the rucksack for anything. Sure enough, she discovered the comics that she gave to him for Christmas, glancing over them before shaking her head, not very eager to read comics considering they just bored her. It was the only thing to do however. So, she flicked through the pages and tried to block out the sounds outside, eyes scanning over the words inked onto the page. After reading a few pages in silence, she gave up and shoved it back in, grumbling to herself. "How does Dylan read such shit?"

Her shoulder was aching terribly. Deciding to check out the outside, she left the rucksack by her side and, as carefully as she could, slipped from underneath her brother, propping his head against the bag just so he had something comfortable to rest on. He truly was a heavy sleeper. Freed from him, she snuck over to the other doors, flashlight in hand, and lifted up the lever that was locking the door. It squeaked terribly, so much so that she had to pause in opening the door to make sure any walkers around wouldn't notice her. A few seconds passed before she managed to pluck up the courage to push the door open slightly, sticking her face in the gap to peer out.

The sun had rosen past the middle point of the sky, suggesting that hours had in fact passed since they had woken up and came across Eden. Dark would soon come across, and she didn't like the idea of wandering around in the dark with no group and only Dylan to watch her back. However, walkers were still sticking close by to the truck, much so that it was near impossible for her to sneak around. Cursing to herself, she closed the door again and left it unlocked, knowing that the walkers wouldn't be able to open it from the outside. They were trapped like rats, and all they could do was wait for a while longer until she decided it was safe enough to get outta there.

Hopefully her group had reached the rendezvous point safely.

Leaning her head against the wall, she winced as the sore spot from where her hair had been ripped out touched the cold metal surface, closing her eyes momentarily to try and deal with the pain. At least the blood had dried by then, sticking to her long locks and knotting them together. Leaving her wound be, she felt the heavy weight of exhaustion settle over her, almost like a warm blanket, and before long she decided to take the chance to rest up before they would have to leave and find the others. It wasn't a deep sleep full of dreams as the hours passed by, she could still keep an ear out in case something happened, but sure enough the need didn't arise as the walkers gave up trying to find the survivors.

Occasionally her head lolled forward, stirring the tired woman awake as she jerked on reflex, glancing around to find that everything was fine before falling asleep once more. Her neck ached terribly, as did the rest of her body from sleeping in such an awkward position, but that didn't catch her attention as, once again, she was awakened by a sound of dry coughing, her head snapping upwards while her eyes glanced around nervously. Through the small slit down the middle of the doors, she was shocked to find that the whole day had gone by, the sun nearing the horizon once more with the skies dyed those usual beautiful colours. With the light fading, the outlines of the walkers that remained around the truck were getting harder to see. This was their chance.

Backing away, Charlotte turned around to where she left Dylan before, her voice barely a whisper. "Dylan, come on, we got a chance to get outta here."

He didn't respond. Instead, with his back to her, he was hacking up and coughing loudly, his entire body shaking from trying to contain the noises. Worried, she approached him slowly, listening to the sounds coming from the boy while reaching her hand on to tap his shoulder. The touch caused him to flinch, sitting upright in an instant and looking at the thing that touched him, barely calming down when he was it was only Charlotte trying to stir him awake. She was shocked at how terrible he looked. Once tanned skin paling and the whites of his eyes turning a yellow colour, he coughed again as his sister asked him worryingly. "Bud, what's wrong?"

No words came from him, only another cough as he covered his mouth with his hand, obviously trying to figure out what to say. Her heart was beating ten to the dozen, threatening to break out of her ribcage when he finally rolled up the end of his jeans, the fabric having been torn and bloodied slightly. She hadn't noticed that before, watching silently when her mouth opened, no words able to get past her throat as it closed uncomfortably, unwilling to take in any air no matter how hard she tried. Dylan stared at his leg, his lips pulled into a deep frown when he finally spoke up in a gravelly voice. "I'm sorry, Charlie."

He'd been bitten.

"O-Oh God…" That was all she could say, her mind drawing blank while her mouth just started rambling, trying to figure out what to say to make the situation any better. "You're gonna be alright, buddy. We can get you outta here, find Carlos o-or some medicine, and we can patch you up in no time."

She couldn't breathe. Her brain was racing with thoughts and begging, trying to reach out to anyone willing to listen to her pleas. Please, anyone but him. Let this be a nightmare, Charlotte waking up and finding that Dylan was alright, if a bit tired and sore from hiding out, and they'd leave together to find their group. No matter what she said or how she tried to comfort her brother, he had already accepted his fate. Grimly, he coughed. "Don't. You know that there's only one way this ends."

"No! I-I can't lose you,  _please, don't ask me to do this._ " She begged. Any thought of being the older, more rational sibling had gone out the window, Charlotte rather bowing her head with tears streaming down her face.

"Charlie… I'm scared." He confessed, looking away from her for a moment. "I'm terrified. I don't want to die, but knowing that you're here with me, that you've never abandoned me when I needed you, it's helping me. I need you to be there for me now."

Charlotte looked back up at him, widened eyes staring as the tears continued to fall down her face, dripping down onto her clenched hands while she sniffed, wiping her face with the sleeve of her jacket. Dylan needed her, she had to be strong. Despite her mind repeating that to her, she felt like someone had stabbed her in the chest and twisted the knife more and more, taking the breath out of her lung, and all she could do was shake her head and gasped. "This is all wrong. You deserved better than this. It should've been you outlasting me…"

"I-It's not all bad." Dylan joked, cracking a smile in hopes that it would help her. "I gotta know some great people, and I gotta see a new you. It's definitely more than some other people got."

Saying nothing, she watch through blurred vision as he shuffled upwards slightly, pulling his pistol outta the back of his pocket and holding it in both hand, checking the ammo in the clip while muttering. "Got one bullet left. You should get outta here, take the chance now to get past those walkers."

"What?!" She whispered harshly, stunned at what he was insinuating before shaking her head softly. "I can't just leave you here! Bud, you'll die!"

"I'm gonna die anyway. At least this way, I can distract them with the truck and go on my terms." He explained, pausing when the two heard a groan just outside the doors. Charlotte froze, watching the doors closely with her hand on Dylan's shoulder, squeezing it slightly while they waited anxiously for the walker to do something. Eventually, the moans stopped and the walker likely settled down or moved on, either letting the two carry on their argument as Dylan carried on. "I want you to take my bag. There's some comics in there for Clem, I've been using them to teach her how to read. She'll like them…"

Passing her the bag, Charlotte slipped her arms in while he continued. "I guess Omid won't get to teach me how to use that rifle after all. Will you tell everyone that I said goodbye?"

"Of course, buddy."

"Great, and tell Mason…" He groaned, leaning against the wall with eyes tightly screwed shut, taking a moment to get the pain under control. Charlotte sat there silently, unable to handle hhow heavy everything felt while he was just sitting there, unable to go a few seconds without coughing or groaning in pain. After managing to control the pain, he finished his sentence. "Tell him it's gonna be alright. We've always been together… I'm sorry that I can't be there for him now."

"I will. Don't worry about it." She promised, moving closer to Dylan before pulling him into a tight hug, burying her face into his shoulder while whispering. "Be strong, Dylan. For whatever happens next."

"I'll tell the others you said hi…" He laughed, earning a small yet saddened smile from his sister before they turned back to the doors. At that moment, the situation truly dawned on her, that she would be walking out of those doors without her brother, and felt as if her body couldn't move no matter how hard she tried to will it. The silence was suffocating, only the winds howling outside and the distant moans of the undead filling the air, but soon enough, she felt Dylan's hand resting on her shoulder, urging her to go as he all but begged her. "Go, you gotta take this chance."

Finally, her legs were able to move, Charlotte and Dylan creeping towards the doors slowly and quietly. A creak echoed as she pushed the door open, peering through the small gap to check out their surroundings. There definitely wasn't as many walkers roaming around as there was chasing after them, some of the undead likely having moved on to find more food, but there was still too many for her to take on by herself. Dylan looked over her shoulder, looking around before pointing at an abandoned newspaper stand. "There, you can hide in there while I draw the walkers away in that direction. With luck, you can find your way outta here."

Breathing in, she exhaled softly and agreed. "O-Okay."

There was no more time for goodbyes. Dylan didn't take the chance for Charlotte to back out, rather giving the signal for them to move out and, bursting into action, she emerged from the back of the truck and jumped down on the tarmac. The force of the door swinging open hit a walker that was lurking around the back, flinging it to the ground and stunning it long enough for Charlotte to get away quickly. Dylan was no longer beside her, and when she looked over her shoulder, she spotted him instead getting up into the cab of truck, shutting the door behind him and waiting for her to get into position. Focusing on her task at hand, she avoided a group of walkers that were too busy digging into a corpse left on the road, their decayed hands digging and tearing apart the flesh with sickening noises coming from them.

Grimacing, she sighed in relief when she reached the newspaper stand, able to hop over the counter and hide from the walkers that were walking around. Kneeling down, she covered her mouth with her hand when she spotted a walker right in front of the stand, staring up in fear as its soft groans reached its ears. It hadn't spotted her yet. That said, she can't exactly move with it lurking around right in front of the stand. Dylan could likely see her predicament, because soon after she managed to hide, the truck they were hiding in started making loud sputtering noises, the engine in no condition by the sounds of it to actually start and drive away. Loud honking accompanied the splutters, the cacophony attracting all the undead in the area as they gazed in the direction, their groans turning into vicious snarls and growls while they moved towards the sounds.

Even the walker keeping Charlotte pinned down was attracted by the noise, turning its head in the direction of the truck and, slowly, limped in its direction, leaving her behind to slip out of her hiding spot. Peeking around the corner, she was greeted with an opening to slip through, though she was drawn to the truck where the walkers had gathered around, slamming their hands on the solid metal door in hopes of breaking it down. There was no time to change her mind, not if she wanted to get back to her group and last sibling. So, closing her eyes momentarily, she silently said her goodbyes and took her chance, running off through the opening. The few walkers that had not managed to get to the truck spotted her, growling with their hands stretched outwards to snare her, but she was too fast, rushing past them and down the road before they could follow after her.

Nearly tripping over her feet, legs weak and tired after all she's been through, she managed to right herself up and slip through an alleyway, hoping to lose the walkers' interest. Suddenly, she skidded to a stop, staring at a high chain link fence that separated the two parts of the alleyway, throwing her hands up in the air. "You gotta be fucking kiddin' me."

There was no way back or around so, preparing herself, she ran up to the fence and jumped as high as she could, hands able to grab the top of the fence. All the muscles in her arms ached, begging for some rest, but she couldn't give it any and instead pulled herself up, grunting in effort before managing to swing a leg over the top, straddling the fence. Getting the other leg over, she hopped down onto the other side. Evaded the walkers, she carried down the alleyway as fast as she could, pausing for a moment to check out the street the alleyway led out to, though she couldn't see any walkers hanging around. Slowly, she slipped out onto the main street, following after it with her hand hovering over the handle of her machete, ready to use it at the first sign of trouble.

It was silent, even the honks and splutters of the truck's engine no longer echoing through the crisp air, and with the sun getting closer to the horizon, the light of day was fading fast. She had to find a way out before it got dark. Luckily, while walking down the main road that ran through the small town, she spotted an old and dirty road sign with other towns and cities written on it, managing to figure out the word Dansville through the grime and rust. If she followed this road, she could make her way there, and so with no time to waste, to jogged down the road quickly. There were walkers around, though only a couple that didn't pose much a threat to Charlotte as she passed by, ignoring them in hopes to find a way out of the fenced off community.

"No…" She muttered to herself, skidding to a stop when she reached the end of the road, staring up at the wall that cut right across the road, too tall for her to climb without finding something tall to climb up on first. She was trapped. Glancing around, she heard the telltale groans behind her and looked over her shoulder, finding that the corpses had decided to follow after her. "There's gotta be a way over this thing."

Looking around for anything that would help her in that situation, she noticed that a house was close enough to the wall to risk a jump over, staring up at the balcony running along the first floor window. How she'd get up there though was something she'd have to figure out, but anything was better than waiting for the walkers to catch up to her. With only a spare glance given to the undead approaching her, she ran towards the house and looked around, unable to find something that she could push up against the wall to get to the top floor. Curses muttered under her breath, she stared at the porch in front of the front door, switching her gaze from that to the ground floor window and back again. There was no other way, other than risking back tracking and finding another way, though with danger bearing down on her, she took her chances.

Foot propped up on the windowsill, she lifted herself up with her hands digging into the wooden frame on top, shuffling across before she reached out for the roof over the porch, trying to keep her balance while fingers dug into the slates. Prepping herself, she grunted loudly as she threw her body over, managing to get a hold on the roof while her legs kicked madly, dangling there before she managed to get a foothold on the wooden frame and brick wall. After much straining and difficulty, she finally pulled her body up, backing away from the edge as the walkers reached upwards in vain, growls of hunger all she could hear while she just sat there, breathing heavily. However, despite her worn body wanting to stay there and rest, she pushed herself up to her feet and carefully made her way to the roofing that ran around the house, pressing her back against the wall while she scuttled her way along it.

One wrong slip and she'd risk a broken leg and certainly death from those walkers. Taking in a shaky breath, she stopped when she was finally facing the wall, staring at the top of it and the road outside it, stretching off as far as her eyes could make out. That was it, she was on the home stretch and so, moving slightly away from the house's wall, she jumped the gap and thankfully managed to grab hold of the top of the wall, dangling precariously several meters off the ground. The rucksack on her back weighed her down, swinging with her momentum while she struggled to get up, her fingers aching from the sheets of metal digging into her flesh. A few little ledges in the wall allowed her to get a grip, her arms shaking from the strain as she pulled herself upwards, trying to not look down at the ground below.

Lifting a leg over, she sat on the top of the wall finally, breathing out heavily with that exertion over and done with. It was almost peaceful, watching the sun set from where she was, but Charlotte wasn't in the mood to appreciate the beauties, wanting to just get out of there and back on the road again. It was some drop on the other side of the wall, no houses close enough for her to hop down onto, and there she realised how stuck she was. Slowly, she lowered her body down again, her hands gripping tightly onto the wall while her legs swung around, trying to find something to step on. With no other way, she cursed to herself. "Fuck it, here we go."

There, she released her grip on the wall and dropped down on the grass below, landing awkwardly on her feet, her skewered balance causing her to topple over and land on her back. Stiff and sore, but still alive and with no serious injuries. Finally out of Eden, she sat upright and glanced around, realising finally just how alone she truly was. No group or family around her, sharing jokes and stories, or even just enjoying each other's company, all she could do was sit there and allow the tears to fall down her face once more, quietly sobbing to herself while laying back down facing the skies. The palms of her hands rested over her face, hiding it away as every broken sob wracked her entire body, the guilt of surviving when Dylan was gone eating away at her while she recalled her dream back on the run.

All the promises she made, to her parents, to Elizabeth, even to the teenage boys she was meant to be protecting, they were all broken. Useless. Even after laying there for God knows how long, she didn't have the strength to even sit up anymore, rather removing her hands from her face and staring up at the night sky. The moon was out that night, a bright crescent shape amongst the vast navy blue background, and even stars had twinkled in the distance. Rubbing her reddened eyes, Charlotte took in a shaky breath and sighed to herself. "Can't start breaking down now. I gotta find the others…"

So, she pushed herself to move, getting up to her feet slowly while repositioning the rucksack on her shoulders, giving a moment of pause to glance back at the wall that surrounded the destroyed community of Eden. There was no chance of a burial, of the whole group saying their goodbyes like they did with Emma, and so with a heavy heart, Charlotte walked down the road leading to Dansville while muttering softly. "Goodbye, buddy."

Leaving Eden behind her, she kept walking along the empty road, keeping a grip on the strap of her bag while glancing around nervously. With the sun having long gone, she was left roaming around in the darkness, only her flashlight keeping her from walking completely blind. She never thought that walking along a seemingly empty road was worse than having the dead chase after her, nervously eyeing up every vehicle and hiding spot that a walker could've gotten into. A rogue wind blew through the countryside, chilling her to the bone as she shivered violently, shielding her face from the biting frost. The temperature was dropping again with the warmth of the sun's ray gone. If she wanted to outlast the night, she would have to find somewhere to bunker down for the night.

Much to her disappointment, there were no more houses around that she could break into, rather being greeted with fields upon fields of farmland and woodlands no matter where she turned. Her feet hurt terribly, likely blistering from all the walking and running she had done over the course of her journey. Yet, she did not feel safe enough to set up camp on the side of the road, uneased by how easily it was for something, whether other survivors or walkers, to sneak up on her while she rested. With that thought at the back of her mind constantly, she elected to keep walking, hopeful that she would come across something. Pulling up her bandana to try and converse some body heat, she rubbed her arms through her thick winter jacket, feeling the cold seep through despite her layers.

"At least it ain't snowing." She pointed out, grateful for that little thing at least. Bracing herself as another winter wind hit her full force, she glanced upwards, desperate for something to hide away in. Suddenly, she spotted a lone car in the distance, stumbling up the road towards it while the hope of getting out of the winds filled her chest with joy. Once she reached it, she used the flashlight to peer inside, careful in case any more walkers were ready to jump out at her as soon as she opened the door.

All clear. Trying the door, she smiled slightly when it opened without incident, glancing around before shrugging off her rucksack, unstrapping the sleeping bag that was left rolled up on top of it. With it in hand, she laid it out across the back seats of the car, giving her somewhere to sleep for the night. With everything set up, she sat down on the car seat, pulling the bag in with her before shutting the door, stopping any walkers from getting the jump on her during the night. It wasn't much warmer in the car in all honesty. In fact it was still freezing, Charlotte sitting there in silence shivering while her teeth chattered, and she could only tolerate it for a few minutes before slipping into the sleeping bag, desperate for any kind of warmth to her frozen bones.

Engulfed in it, her hand snuck out to the bag that she left in the small footwell, lipping under the lid and rummaging through for something to eat. Her stomach growled in hunger, the sounds loud in the empty, cramped space she was resting in, and that hunger drove her to look through the bag desperately, eager to find  _anything_ that she could eat. Sure enough, her hand brushed against a plastic bag, pulling it out to reveal that it was a small packet of peanuts that they took from Eden. It wasn't much, but she didn't exactly have a fire going to cook any of the cans in her bag. So, tearing the peanut bag open with her teeth, she devoured all the contents inside as quick as she could, too starving to think through it until all the food was gone, and she was left lying there barely satisfied.

She refrained herself from digging into more of the food they gathered, needing to save it for when she found the group again. That thought stuck with her. Finally having time to reflect on the events of the day, she laid there in the sleeping bag, staring at the front passenger seat while trying her hardest not to burst into tears again. She didn't even know if she would ever see her friends again, unsure where they were or if they were as lucky as she was getting out of Eden. For all she knew, everyone was dead and she was left all alone. Everything felt numb at that moment, almost like she had no more energy to even make a noise, and with the background noise going on outside her temporary refuge, she closed her eyes and settled down for the night.

Occasionally, the old caws from the crows flying overhead or an unfamiliar sound jolted her awake. Lifting her head, she peered through the window and, when she saw that there was no danger outside, she laid back down and went to sleep once more. This repeated throughout the night. Nerves frayed from her ordeal, she found herself unable to sleep properly, just drifting in and out of consciousness until light finally beamed through the window, hitting her in the face. Scrunching up her eyes in pain, she blinked for a few moments to clear her vision before glancing out of the window once more, finding that morning had come at last.

First sign of light had her pack up her things once more and head off down the road. Bottle of water in hand, she took a large gulp of it before shoving it in her pocket, glancing at the road signs by the side of the road, eventually stopping in front of one. Dansville was written on it, though she wouldn't have known about it without looking carefully through the rust and dirt ingrained into the worn metal. It would be another ten miles before she would reach the town. Eyes shifting to the long road ahead of her, she shrugged to herself and carried on walking. "Well, better get a shift on."

It was definitely warmer than it was last night, the sun's rays warm on her back while she kept walking, unwilling to take a break until she would reach the town and find her group. The thoughts plaguing her sleep the previous night were pushed away. She couldn't think like that, not right then, and thankfully distraction came in the sound of a creek flowing nearby. Pausing when the sound reached her ears, Charlotte glanced off the established road while her hand moved inside her pocket for a moment, pulling out the water bottle and checking it. Running on empty. Quickly, she knocked back the last dregs inside the bottle and walked off the road, spotting the creek running near it amongst the bushes and vegetation that ran along its banks.

From all the rain and snow that fell, the mud had become slippery around the banks. Carefully, Charlotte walked across until she found a nice flat bit to take a quick rest and refill her bottle, kneeling down in the dirt with bottle in hand. The water didn't look all that touched, flowing slowly along its course with clear water shining in the sunlight, showing off her reflection as she dipped the bottle in. Freezing water made contact with her skin, causing her to let out a shivering gasp and curse under her breath. "Jesus! Don't wanna go stickin' my hands in that for too long."

Braving the horrible sensation, she pulled the bottle out and eyed it up, taking a small sip before screwing the cap back on and shoving it back in her pocket, keeping it safe whilst she made a move to keep going. However, she froze, staring at her reflection with a stunned expression on her face. She looked exhausted, bags settling right under her dull blue eyes, no longer vivid or full of life and had even became red and puffy from her breakdown yesterday. Even her hair rested limply on her head, greasy from months of not being able to bathe properly besides a quick splash by a river, and the echo of the walker's hand grabbing hold of her locks and ripping some out caused her to wince involuntarily, trying not to mess around with the wound at the back of her head.

She couldn't keep walking around with her hair in that state. After everything that had happened, she wasn't even sure if she could recognise the person staring back, and decided to change that. Unsheathing her machete, she dipped the bloodied blade into the river to cleanse it, rinsing off the dried fluid before pulling it out again. The blade had seen better days; chipped and losing its shine, but it would get the job done in replacement of scissors. Without tearing her gaze away from her reflection, she grabbed hold of a chunk of her long hair, pulling it tight over the machete's blade and, without much hesitation, sliced right through it. The cut was anything but clean, some of the hair remaining uncut until she tried again, managing to get it all after another swipe.

Slowly, she dropped the cut hair onto the ground besides the river, unable to feel much about what she was doing as she just kept hacking at it, trying to be as quick as possible to avoid her changing her mind. More hair came away, dropping down into a pitiful pile when she eventually finished, dropping the last strands of hair down onto the ground before turning her attention back to her reflection. It was certainly a hack job. Wild parts of her hair sticking out in different directions, some of it hanging over the middle of her face and part of her right eye, too short to be tucked behind her ear anymore. Still, no walker would be able to grab her anymore. Silently, she picked up her machete and carried on walking, leaving the creek and her discarded hair behind her.

The sun carried on travelling across the skies. Soon passing noon, Charlotte stopped at the top of a small hill, staring down at the roads ahead while the wind blew softly against her. She had been walking for hours, and she still didn't know how far she was to Dansville with the town nowhere in sight. Feet and legs aching, she contemplated another break but shook the thought away, not wanting to waste anymore time and instead carrying on, trudging down the road before a peculiar sound gave her pause. Glaring in the distance, she tightened the grip on her weapon, ready to leap into action if there was even a sign of danger, but surely enough, the sounds reached her ears once more.

"What is that…?" She muttered to herself, jogging down the road quickly while on the lookout for anything strange. Surely enough, in the distance, she could see something blurry rushing in her direction, the splodge brown in colour. Heart jumping in fright, she dove off the road and hide out in the bushes, trying to cover herself up as much as possible. It definitely wasn't a walker, it was moving too fast, but what was it?

Soon, she could hear the noises more clearly, raising an eyebrow while pulling herself out of cover, finding that it was not other survivors rushing towards her, or even danger. When she wa in full view, she recognised the thing running towards her, the sound of barking bringing a bright smile to her face as she kneeled down, stretching her arms outright while crying out happily. "Sam! Come here, boy!"

Sam was alive. The skinny dog, ecstatic to discover that his owner was alive and well, slowed down when he reached her, his whole body shaking along with his tail as excitement overtook him. All that greeted Charlotte was a wet tongue to her face, being licked all over by the canine while she tried to fight him off, eventually pushing him off and instead calmly stroking behind his ears with both hands, leaving the machete on the floor. "I can't believe you made it outta there! Was the others with you?"

Sam couldn't answer, and he didn't even understand her question. Disappointed that he was the only member of her group there, she was still pleased to have some form of company after spending the entire night on her own, rubbing him all over his head and neck before getting up to her feet, weapon plucked from the ground. Her search was still on, and she adopted a more serious expression when she stared down the road leading to Dansville. "Let's go find the others."

A sharp bark was her answer, and the two set off once more on their search for the other survivors. After walking further down the hill, she realised the cause of Sam running and barking like bad before, finding that walkers had caught onto him and chased the poor creature down, eager to find more fresh food to devour. Seeing the monsters up close caused Sam to growl loudly, his ears laid flat against his head while Charlotte glared at them, weighing her weapon in hand before approaching the small group. The one at front leading the group lunged for her, both hands stretched out before her blade sliced through on of them, the limb dropping to the floor before she backed off slightly, trying to keep an eye on the others before swinging her machete again, managing to get the walker in the side of its head.

The corpse fell down, almost taking Charlotte down with it as her blade got stuck in the flesh, the grown woman struggling to free it while the others refused to wait around. One got uncomfortably close, Charlotte pulling at her weapon with all her might and, with the momentum, managed to get it loose from the body, though stumbled right into another walker. Both of them tumbled to the ground, the machete piercing through the walker's stomach while Charlotte sat on top of it, trying to pull her free arm away from its grasp. Wrenching the machete free, she grimaced as some of the intestine were pulled through the gaping wound, even though that didn't seem to slow the walker down until the same blade that eviscerated it pierced the front of its face.

Getting to her feet, she turned to find that Sam had leapt to her rescue, having grabbed the last walker that was approaching her by its calf and pulled its leg from underneath it, causing it to fall to the ground. He didn't let up, tearing at the decayed muscle and tendons while blood stained the fur around his muzzle, all while snarling viciously. The walker turned its attention to the canine, trying to grab hold of him before Charlotte ran to them and stomped it on the back of its head, repeating the action until the skull was rendered to mush. Exhausted and gasping for her breath back, she backed off slightly before leaning forward, resting her hands against her knees while panting. "Well, thanks for the backup there, boy."

Sam released the leg, sitting there with his mouth clamped shut and piercing eyes watching their surroundings intently, obviously still unnerved after their brief fight with the undead. She shared that sentiment, straightening herself up and gesturing for him to follow after her, the both of them carrying on down the road. More obstacles laid in their path, slowing the duo down as they had to take care of them or sneak by, trying to avoid drawing too much attention from the undead. Charlotte had to hand it, Sam was able to be stealthy when they had to be, refraining from barking and growling at the walkers while they snuck by, and was even more useful in fighting with the canine drawing the walking corpses away from Charlotte, letting her pick them off one by one.

Eventually, through much labour and walking, she could make out a town nearby. Lowering her hand, she and Sam pushed through the last mile along the road, being careful in case they ran into a whole horse of walkers that had infested the town, and sure enough, they came across a sign just outside the town.  _Dansville._ Smiling in relief, she glanced down at the panting Sam and pointed out cheerfully. "Look, boy. We've made it. Now, we just gotta find where our friends had gotten to."

Sam licked his lips anxiously, tail wagging excitingly at the thought of reuniting with the others. Charlotte shared his sentiment, but that intrusive thought kept wiggling its way back into her thoughts, no matter how hard she tried to push it away. All that way she travelled, all the obstacles she got past, she couldn't let it all be for nothing and so, with newfound determination, she walked further into the town with her only companion by her side.

It was a literal ghost town. The only sounds from within was the wind blowing through the empty buildings and the birds that had nested in whatever nook or cranny they could fit into, chirping their songs from high on above, safe from the walkers' reach. Staying silent, she didn't dare risk drawing attention by talking to Sam, even if he couldn't respond to her conversation topics. One of the downfalls of having only a dog around for company. Passing underneath a flyover, nervousness wracked every fiber of her being, the thought of something going wrong putting her on edge and, as a consequence, put Sam on edge as well. It wasn't even the walkers that she could see roaming around, looking for their next meal, but it was the ones that she couldn't see, hiding away in trash piles, under vehicles, and in alleyways just waiting for one slip up.

Then, they would strike.

Creeping past some walkers that had occupied themselves with whatever dead thing they found, she spotted a large mall nearby, a huge empty car park right in front of it that was nearly deprived of everything save for a few scavenged and rusted cars. Trouble was, there were also more undead waiting about for something to come by. Too many for her to fight. Hiding behind an old transformer box, she stared at the walkers before muttering to herself. "How am I gonna get past all them fuckers?"

Scanning the scene, she noticed one single car left further down the street. It didn't look as bad in condition as the ones abandoned in the car park. Recalling how they managed to get around Albemarle, she decided to take her chance there and snuck down the road, passing the car park with Sam trotting behind her. Weak groans caused her hair to stand on the end, Charlotte eyeing up the walkers anxiously while she kept creeping by. Luckily, they hadn't spotted her, instead just laying around or standing still without anything to stimulate them into giving chase or even moving. Once she reached the car, she stood back up and moved to try the door. Suddenly, hands slammed against the glass loudly, snarls and growls making her jump back in fright, hands in front of her before she realised that the walker was trapped inside the car.

Just standing there, she scratched the back of her head in thought, trying to figure out a plan on what to do. She had no idea on how to trigger the alarm on purpose, at least not without crashing it into something. Right then, she glanced down the road, finding it on a slight slope running down into some boarded up shops at the bottom. Raising an eyebrow, she hummed to herself and, plan in mind, moved to open the car door. The walker was driven on further by hunger, trying all it could to get out of the seatbelt keeping it trapped in the driver seat. Luckily for the living survivors, it was too weak to get free and, pulling her machete free, she quickly stabbed it through the face.

The growls ceased with the walker becoming limp in its seat belt. Managing to free her weapon, she sheathed it once more and leaned further into the car, spotting the handbrake in between the two front seats. She paused, wondering what she'd do if the alarm wasn't triggered by the crash, before slowly turning her head to the steering wheel. Hopefully the horn still worked. There was only one way to find out that didn't involve her getting the walkers attention too early, and so she quickly unbuckled the seat belt that was keeping the corpse trapped, pushing it back in its seat when it fell limp on top of her. Disgusting stench coming from the rotting flesh caused her to gag loudly, especially with how close she was to it, but thankfully she was able to be quick in pulling the handbrake up and backing out before she was dragged with the car.

No brakes to keep it in place, the car slowly started rolling down the road, inching away when Charlotte slammed the door shut to keep the body from falling out along the ride. Backing away, she watched momentarily as the car started gathering speed, rolling away from them before she rushed back to a hiding spot before it'd crash. Sliding behind another transformer, she watched the car driving all the way down the road before a loud crash echoed through the air, the forced sending the walker body colliding with the steering wheel in front of it and triggering the, thankfully, still working horn. On top of that, the collision triggered the alarm, which had started blaring loudly in the ear-splitting cacophony. Kneeling further behind her hiding spot, she whispered to Sam. "That should do it. Now to wait for them to take the bait."

Peeking out the other side, she watched the car park intently, keeping silent while she noticed the noises catching the attention of the undead. Growling softly, they started shuffling or dragging their legless bodies down out from in front of the mall and down the road towards the crash site, allowing Charlotte and Sam to slip by unnoticed. Once in the car park, she rushed towards the front door, finding that it had been blocked by something on the other side. Panting slightly, she felt her heart thumping madly in her chest, the idea of the walkers coming back and finding her spurring her to slam her fist against the glass door and begging loudly. "Hey! Hey, is anyone in there?! I need some help here, please, open the door!"

Backing away slightly, she was greeted by nothing but silence. Panic set in, Charlotte moving to slam her fist against it again in hopes that someone would hear her and let her inside, before she heard something going on behind them. The glass was dirty, blood splattered and hand prints all over it, meaning that she couldn't see through properly to see what was going on, but sure enough, her cries for help were answered as whatever was blocking the door was moved and the doors open. Standing there panting, she stared in shock as none other than Christa stood in the doorway, rifle in hand as she gestured for the other woman to get in already. Running inside, she skidded to a stop while Christa, along with Omid, pushed a heavy looking table up against the doors again, stopping anything from following in after her.

Words failed to leave her. Standing there with her mouth open and eyes widened, she could only describe what she was feeling with one word. Relief. It was like a wave crashing over her, and from the looks of the others survivors, she could tell that they felt the same way, especially since Omid was the first to break the silence. "Holy shit, Charlie! We thought we'd never see you again!"

"I could say the same thing." She responded with a small smile, pulling Omid into a tight yet brief hug before letting him go, turning to Christa while asking. "What about the others? Did they make it?"

"Everyone's here. Thankfully Omid and Nick got back to us in time before that alarm brought the whole dead on top of us," A sigh came from Charlotte at the mention of the others, glad that they had made it out with them, but Christa's voice dropped in tone when she glanced around, obviously trying to look for something before questioning her. "Charlotte… Where's Dylan?"

That question changed her entire mood instantly. Standing there in silence, she glanced between both her friends as they watched her in worry, trying not to jump to conclusions until she quietly revealed. "Dylan, he…he didn't make it."

"Oh God," Omid started, sharing a stunned look with Christa before asking softly, obviously torn up about hearing the teenager's death. "How… what happened out there?"

"We tried to outrun the walkers, but eventually we had to hide out in this truck. I… I thought we could wait them out. Then Dylan got bitten and I-I couldn't do anything, he needed me and I had to leave him behind, like some fucking coward!" She began hyperventilating, collapsing to her knees with her hands digging into her eyes, trying her best to not burst out into tears. After focusing on her search to keep her from dwelling on what had happened, but with her having succeeded in her goal, all the feelings and thoughts that she had been blocking out crashed down on top of her.

It felt like she couldn't breathe. Rather, all she could do was sit on the floor and sob, trying to catch her breath back with little success. Sam whined at the display, trying to calm her down by licking her face and sticking to her side, doing whatever he could to make sure she was okay, and even Christa and Omid were stunned by her breakdown. Considering how she was before, it was little surprise they never actually saw her cry. Yet there she was. Christa kneeled beside her, holding onto Charlotte's hand while comforting the broken woman. "Charlotte, it wasn't your fault."

"But it is! He told me to leave him behind, so that he could give me a chance to escape, and rather than fight, rather than try to think of another way, I  _ran!_ " Inhaling deeply, she rubbed her eyes with her hands, trying desperately to stop the tears from falling, although her efforts were mostly in vain.

From behind her, she could hear someone call out. "Charlie?"

Glancing over her shoulder, she found Mason just standing there, staring at the adults with widened eyes, tears pricking in the corners while he shook his head softly. She couldn't breathe. He knew, he couldn't have not overheard them, it was written all over his face, and all she could do was utter out a weak. "Mason…"

"That's not true." He denied, the tears finally falling as he all but begged his sister. "Dylan's not dead! Please, tell me it's not true…"

Getting up to her feet, she closed the distance between her and the sobbing teen, arms wrapping around him as she pulled him into a tight hug. Face buried into the top of his head, she felt his chest heaving with each breath he took in, her jacket likely getting wet from the tears rolling down his face, and all she could say while he was a wreck was. "I'm sorry, buddy. He's gone."

Mason said nothing. What caused her heart to drop was when he slowly removed himself from her arms, looking blankly at her, and then simply went back to the other adults in the group that were watching from a store they managed to get into. Nick stood by the counter, watching the exchange with none of that hostility in his eyes, rather staring at Charlotte with sympathy, all before turning away and placing a hand on Mason's shoulder, guiding the teen back to the others. She stood there, feeling her heart crushed from her brother brushing off all attempts to comfort him, even ignoring Clementine when she asked if he was alright. Letting out a shaky breath, she listened as Christa explained. "We've been stuck here for most of the day with all the walkers outside. Whatever you did drew them away, so if we wanna get outta here, we gotta go now."

"I'll get everyone up and ready." Omid offered, leaving their sides to talk to the rest of the group.

Nothing left to say, she was unresponsive when Christa placed a hand on her shoulder, the friendly gesture ignored while the pregnant woman consoled her. "It sounds like Dylan did what had to be done to save you. If he was bit, there was no helping him, even if you two managed to escape. Trust me when I say this, but I know what it's like to watch a friend deteriorate from a bite, you didn't want to see him like that."

Slowly, Charlotte just shrugged off Christa's hand and waited for the others to get ready to leave the mall. Everyone watched her with wary eyes, too unsure and afraid of her reaction if they tried to comfort her or Mason, rather sharing uncomfortable glances while packing up, having taken all they could from the mall while waiting the walkers out. Carlos helped Pete up, the relationship between uncle and nephew unlikely to have repaired during the time Charlotte was gone, but honestly, that was the least of her worries when Mason passed by her, waiting for Omid and Nick to move the barricade in front of the doors. He wouldn't talk to her, look at her, and any glance that happened between them ended instantly with the both of them glancing away.

Reeling from the shock of losing his twin and best friend, Mason wouldn't even talk with the other children in their group. Clementine at least respected his distance, likely knowing what it was like dealing with the loss of someone very close, but Sarah was more open about her sadness regarding the situation, trying her best to pick Mason's spirits up. Sneaking out of the mall and travelling away from where Charlotte had set the trap, Sarah's attempts were finally stopped by her father, his gruff voice telling her off. "Sarah, please, just give Mason some space."

"Oh… alright." With that, she walked beside the grown man silently, rubbing her upper arm while unable to even bring herself to look at Mason anymore, not that he even noticed with his blank stares trailing on the ground they were walking along.

Charlotte kept to the back, trailing behind the others with only Sam by her side keeping her company. Staring at the worn tarmac under her boots, she didn't react when she noticed Nick slowing down, walking at her pace without saying a word, instead just keeping the grieving woman company. For some reason, she was grateful that he wasn't trying to give any small talk, all try to comfort her when it was obvious that Christa tried and failed, rather refusing to leave her alone during this fragile time. Glancing away for a moment, she confessed softly. "You were right."

"Huh?" Nick replied, looking over at Charlotte with a stunned expression.

"What you told me back in the cabin. I thought I could at least keep my brothers alive, even if people do die, but I was wrong. One day, it's gonna be our turn, and…" Her voice caught in her throat, Charlotte closing her eyes momentarily before finishing her sentence grimly. "And there's nothing I can do to stop it."


	16. Abandoned Bridge

A couple of days had passed since the group had escaped Dansville and carried on north. The mountains running along the border of North Carolina and Virginia were behind them, abandoned towns and vast countrysides once again being replaced by dark forests with towering trees looming over the survivors, the pine trees stretching out their branches to prevent all of the sunlight from reaching the ground. Snow, rain, sleet; all had fallen over their journey through the mountains, sometimes growing strong enough to force the group to bunker down and wait it out, but seeing no more long paths over the mountain tops or through passes relieved Charlotte, who had taken lead of the group since sun rise.

She prefered forests and countryside compared to cities and towns. Nature had a certain untouched beauty to it, even if it could conceal walkers just as well as their urban counterparts. The worn, beaten path kicked up dust as they walked over it, having not seen snow for a while as most had fallen at the top of the mountains, rather being hit by severe rain storms. The loss of Dylan had the whole group reeling, most of all Mason. After grieving enough the night of his death, Charlotte had managed to focus on her group's survival first and foremost, pushing her feelings to the back of her mind for the moment, but her last remaining sibling was not so lucky. She didn't want to push him, but he had grown quiet over the few days, secluded even, just walking on his own with a depressed expression constantly on his face.

At least Sarah and Clementine had started forming a friendship. The youngest of the children was still wary, unsure whether she wanted to open up to another friendship again, but even she couldn't help but smile while Sarah babbled on about some book she loved to read or what her favourite lesson in school was. After listening in on their conversation, Charlotte had found out that Clementine hated soccer. She wasn't a huge fan either. From behind, the two girls carried on conversing with Sarah sighing. "I'm so thirsty. I wish we still had those juice boxes we found, they were tasty."

"I didn't like the orange ones." Clementine confessed.

"Isn't your name an orange?" Charlotte chuckled at that, able to visualise the child's unimpressed expression even with her back to them.

Sure enough, Clementine's annoyed voice replied. "I didn't pick it."

"Well, yeah, kids don't usually pick their own names." There was a short pause, but sure enough, Sarah piped up again. "Dad told me that my mom picked my name. He wanted to call me Elisa, but she said no. So, I got it as a middle name."

"I like Sarah. It's pretty." It was cute listening to the kids just talking about random things, Charlotte smiling to herself until she heard Clementine call out to her. "Who named you, Charlie?"

"Huh?" She hummed, turning her head and peeking over her shoulder, staring at the girls while appearing thoughtful. Lips pursed momentarily, she explained with a grin. "My dad gave it to me, though he also gave me the nickname. I'm sure he just wanted a boy. But Mama gave me my middle name."

"And what's that?" Sarah joined in, intrigued by the conversation.

Laughing quietly, she responded with a smirk. "Charlotte Maria Davies-Hernandez."

"Wow, that's really long." Clementine gasped, genuinely impressed by Charlotte's long name. Nodding in agreement, she kept quiet while the children went back to their own conversation, letting her lead the group through the dark forests instead. They talked about names, but soon got bored and went on about different topics, including favourite colours, which was purple for Clementine and blue for Sarah, as well as arguing whether fizzy drinks were superior to juice. None of the adults got involved, rather amused that they were debating over such trivial things, though Omid did interject to back up the fizzy drinks corner.

"Guys, come on." Charlotte eventually scolded, finding it hard to concentrate when all she could hear was Clementine and Sarah right behind her. They looked away sheepishly, but the smirk playing on the leader's lips put them at ease when she revealed. "Besides, juice is so much better."

"Told you." Clementine snarked at Sarah, earning a tongue sticking out from the teenager before they let bygones be bygones. While they traversed further along the path, their conversations quietened down slightly, giving Charlotte some peace and quiet to clear her head and keep an eye on their surroundings, uneased by the thought of the walkers being drawn to even chatter. As long as they weren't being too loud, they should be fine. Slowly, she pulled the map out of her jacket pocket and unravelled it, staring down at the highly detailed paper in hopes that she could figure out where they were.

She didn't want to admit it, but they were lost. Without some sort of monument or something to give her an inkling of where they'd be on the map, she couldn't possibly know where they were heading or which way they'd need to go. At least they were going north. Keeping the map out, she stared up at the skies with narrowed eyes, spotting some crows flying above, their caws echoing throughout the forests while the survivors carried on, unable to stop and wonder what had got the birds so riled up. It was still early morning, the sun hidden away by the neverending trees towering over them and the clouds, light in weight and white in colour, rolling by in the gentle winter breezes. The chill of night could still be felt, the faint sun rays not powerful enough to warm the earth yet.

Charlotte wished the warmth would return soon. Even though days in winter were still bitterly cold, they had nothing on how far the temperatures dropped at night time.

In the distance, the sudden sound of water flowing caught her, and the others', attention, giving them pause while Charlotte tried to figure out what was causing that sound when they were still pretty high up. It sounded to large, too powerful, to be a simple river or creek, and pushed on by curiosity, the group slowly limped down the path while the trees thinned out. Eventually, they opened up to reveal that they were walking straight towards a cliff's end, the path twisting down to a path below, leading to a large metallic bridge that they could see from where they were standing. Walking towards the cliff edge, near a boulder, Charlotte was stunned by how beautiful the sights in front of her were.

Raging down below was a massive river, the source of the rushing water they had previously heard, having cut its way through the two cliffs on either side and carried on for as far as she could see. With trees no longer blocking the sun, it poked from behind the horizon over the river, the clear blue waters shimmering with the light reflecting off it, though they were too high up to even risk trying to replenish their water bottles. Charlotte stood there silently, before hearing the sound of a high pitched voice grunting beside her. Turning her head, she spotted Clementine on top of the large boulder, having shimmied up there with Omid's help, and was peering through a pair of binoculars she had been holding onto.

Backing away from the edge, she called up to the youngest member. "What'd ya see up there?"

"Erm… I see the bridge, and a little house on the other side of it." Clementine pointed out, pausing for a moment before adding. "There looks like some kind of ski building on that hill."

"A ski resort? Holy shit, we've gotten through quite a bit of Virginia if that's the ski resort on this map." Charlotte whistled, staring down at the map as she finally figured out where the group had wandered to. Folding the map up, she turned to the others while Clementine got back down to the ground, needing some help from Omid before the both of them joined in the conversation, listening as Charlotte explained. "I don't like the look of that place, we should keep movin'."

"Going around will take too long. Not to mention too dangerous." Carlos argued, standing by an overturned log that Nick had helped Pete sit down on. Groaning in pain, Pete straightened out his bad leg, keeping it there while the group talked about what they were gonna do, and after last time in Eden, Charlotte wasn't taking any more chances on places like that ski lodge.

"We don't know if there's people staying in that lodge, or if they're friendly. Chances are, they're gonna be keeping an eye on that bridge, and if shit goes down we're gonna be stuck between going back the way we came or facing some pissed off dudes." She snapped, crossing her arms while Carlos glared at her.

With the argument getting heated between them, Christa interjected, having taken a seat next to Pete with the baby taking the wind out of her. "I can't keep going like this, and neither can Pete. We have to cross that bridge, but I do agree it looks shady, so maybe a few of us should scout it out first? See if it's legit before the rest of the group comes across."

"Looks like that's the only plan we got." Pete added in, looking around the group while asking. "So, who's it gonna be?"

No one spoke up. Glancing around, Charlotte stood there with a frown on her face, still unsure about the plan in its entirety, but with some of the adults out of commission due to injury, pregnancy, or simply being too valuable to risk on a scouting mission, she found that there was very little choice left. So, with a grunt, she uncrossed her arms and sighed. "I'll go, but I ain't doin' it alone. Need someone out there to watch my back."

"I can do it." Nick suddenly offered, picking up the rifle that was left by Pete's side and approaching her.

Without any reason not to accept his help, Charlotte just nodded in response, looking at the others as she instructed. "Alright. Y'all are best stayin' put here for a short break, while Nick and I'll be scoutin' the bridge out. If it's safe, we'll signal for the group to come down after us. Clementine."

She turned to face the child, pointing at the boulder with her thumb while ordering her. "I need you to keep watch up there. You should be able to see our signal with them binoculars of yours."

"Okay." Those piercing amber eyes peered out from under the brim of her hat, staring up with a stoic expression on that youthful face, and for some reason, Charlotte actually felt better leaving that important task to her despite how young she was. Rubbing the top of her head affectionately, she moved to walk down the path leading towards the bridge when a voice pipe up from behind her.

"I can come too." It was Mason. Glancing over her shoulder, she spotted him standing besides Christa and Sam, holding his pistol while defending his decision. "I know how to handle myself out there, and you need all the eyes you can get."

"No, you're staying here." She denied, turning her body fully while pointing to the ground with her finger, emphasising her point. That annoyed Mason, his eyes narrowing while his face pulled into a deep scowl, and when he opened his mouth to further push the issue, she cut him off with a deep growl in her voice. "You ain't comin' with me and that's it. Stay here with the others and keep watch, Nick and I won't be long."

"You were the one who wanted me to learn how to do things for myself, but now you're puttin' me on the sidelines?" Mason asked angrily, watching as Charlotte ignored his rant and turned back around, walking away with Nick beside her. Unable to get her to change her mind, he let the topic go and instead sat down in the dirt, staring at the ground while Sam lied down beside him, whining softly as he watched his owner and friend carry on walking without him.

She would've liked Sam to accompany her, knowing that the canine could certainly hold his own, but on a cramped bridge with potential danger, she rather would not think about the possibility of him falling to his death, or even attacked if other survivors were watching the bridge. The same thing went to Mason, though she felt horrible for keeping him behind and going back on her teachings, but the thought of bringing him along and something happening, she couldn't stomach it. So, rather than think about it any longer, she simply stared at the path ahead, glancing at the scenery ever once in a while to distract herself. Soon, the path the duo were walking along lead back into the forest, the sights of the river and cliff faces replaced with even more pine trees, even though the path was then wider than it was before.

Nick glanced around, unnerved by the woods that surrounded them on most sides, and after spending so long surviving in woodlands, Charlotte began to feel the same way, though technically nowhere was safe nowadays. Still, he was good for watching her back, and even though they didn't converse much, she was happy to just focus on their task at hand. However, it wasn't long before Nick started to voice his opinion. "Mason'll come round."

"I don't think an apology and some CDs will help him here." She retorted, her eyebrows furrowing while she sighed deeply. "I ain't going back on what I said. It's better for him to stay with the others."

"Because of what happened with Dylan?" That struck deep. Nick likely knew what she was feeling, seeing it in her face as it fell grim the instant that name was brought up, and quickly, he tried to patch up the mess he just made. "What happened wasn't your fault. He's part of the group, we should outta let him help out more."

"I get what you're sayin', but I'm not changing my mind. If I didn't check out that room then Dylan would still be alive." She confessed harshly, looking away from Nick and instead watching the road ahead. "I don't wanna talk about it. We have a job to do."

The conversation died there. Nick said no more on the subject, rather walking alongside her silently as the two carried on down the path. Even after only mentioning his name, the thought of Dylan caused Charlotte to stare at the ground with saddened eyes, closing them momentarily to regain her composure, before opening them and staring at the horizon with only stoicness showing on her face. The winds no longer battered against them, rather being bearable that day as they blew through, causing the branches to sway slightly and some of Charlotte's short locks to move around, no longer weighed down by their sheer mass. After her haircut, she found that the back of her neck, left exposed, would get colder easier, never knowing how great it was to have loads of hair in winter.

Still, the walkers they came across in their travels were unable to grab hold of it anymore. She would rather have a cold neck than more of her hair ripped out. Slowly, her fingers touched the back of her head, finding that the skin had healed from having the hair follicles yanked out, even though it would be a while before the hair would grow back again. Lowering her hand slightly, she paused when she spotted a figure shambling about in the distance, raising her hand over her eyes to see what it was, keeping the sun from blinding her in the process. It was surely walkers, and even Nick spotted them when he muttered to her. "Lurkers."

Quickly, the both of them ducked behind the cover of some large boulders, peering over them while Charlotte's hand drifted down to the handle of her machete. Nick held onto his rifle, but was unable to aim when she placed her free hand on top of it, pushing the barrel downwards while whispering. "Not here. The noise will bring more."

Annoyed with her action but nonetheless taking heed, he turned back to the walkers in front of them, blocking the way onto the bridge, and questioned his companion. "What're we gonna do then?"

"There's only two," she pointed out, staring at another walker that was sitting up against another rock, its head lolled downwards and yet moving occasionally when the other walking corpse came too close, weak groans nearly missed by the survivors hiding out only a few feet away from them. Thinking deeply, she finally pulled out her machete, the metallic sound of the blade ringing through the air, and formed a plan. "I can take out the big guy. Sitting duck over there should be easy for ya."

"Alright, I'm right behind you." Nick nodded. Plan sorted out, Charlotte took the lead coming out from behind their cover, sneaking over to where the walkers had situated themselves and straightened out, managing to avoid catching her target's attention with its back to her. Raising the machete, she quickly slashed downwards into the back of its skull, pulling it out when the body fell forwards onto the ground. Silently, she wiped some of the blood from her face and turned to the other walker, who had noticed her presence and stretched out its arms, growling loudly despite having no way to get up to its feet with crippled legs trapping him there.

Saying nothing, she watched for a moment when Nick approached the still growling walker, bringing the butt of his gun down on the top of its head. The force caved the skull inwards, pushing the walker's head downwards as it appeared stunned, but still not dead. Slowly lifting its head again, it could only manage a weak moan before Nick grunted loudly, bringing his gun down on its skull again, and sure enough no more sounds came from the corpse as it laid there. With the path cleared, she started walking towards the beginning of the bridge without saying anything, keeping a tight hold on her weapon in case they came across more obstacles there. Seeing it up front rather than from a distance, the bridge looked even more rundown and shifty, with rust eating away at the metal frames, the red paint also flaking away to expose more metal underneath.

With wooden slats running across the middle section, runways situated on either side for people to walk along. It was quiet while they walked along the bridge, almost too quiet, and when Charlotte stepped onto the wooden part to get past a wagon in the way, she yelped in fright when the worn floor gave way and her foot plunged down. Quick reactions had Nick grab onto her jacket, pulling Charlotte out of the hole and stopping her whole body from following in with her foot. Stumbling backwards, she panted for a few moments, feeling that adrenaline still coursing through her veins, before glancing up at Nick. "Thanks."

"No problem." He replied, a small smile on his face when he glanced at the hole she made. "This ain't safe. We oughta be more careful where we step."

"Here, lemme see where we can step." Charlotte offered, holding onto Nick and carefully stepping on other parts of the wooden slats, pushing down slightly to test which ones would be able to support their weight. Finding a few that didn't seem to break under her weight, both she and Nick carefully walked across, getting around the minor blockage and carrying on along the bridge. The wind blowing through caused the bridge to creak and sway slightly, the sound setting her nerves on end, the intrusive thoughts of a major part of the bridge breaking and sending them plummeting into the river below pushing their way into her mind, unable to be shaken off.

Unfortunately, that was the least of her problems when, seeing the end of the bridge in sight, she could make out numerous walkers that had completely blocked off their way to the other side. Tensing up, she got ready to fight with her machete raised, watching as the undead finally noticed their presence and began approaching them, one in particular having to drag itself with no legs to stand on, rather leaving bloodied stumps with bones sticking out. Suddenly, Nick nudged her in the shoulder, catching her attention when Charlotte turned to see what he wanted, only to see what he was seeing. On the side they came from, more walkers had blocked off their escape, effectively trapping them on the bridge. Grunting in frustration, she pulled her knife out from the back of her jeans and held it up for Nick, holding the blade between her fingers while yelling. "Here, take this and get rid of those walkers!"

Taking the knife from her, he pulled the strap attached to his rifle over his head, resting it against his shoulder, and moved away to take care of the walkers approaching them from behind, leaving Charlotte to clear the way forward. Grip tightening around the handle of her weapon, she closed the distance between adn held her hand out, stopping the walker from biting into her neck with her hand pressed against its chest. Its face came close to hers, the stench of its rotting flesh causing her to grimace visibly before she rammed the blade through its chest, backing off with the blade being freed from it while the walker collapsed to its knees, still not killed from the usually fatal attack until she removed its head from its shoulders.

Kicking the severed head away from her, she turned her attention to the walker dragging itself towards her. It didn't post much danger, unable to get too close before it met her blade through its head, though her machete got caught in its mangled flesh again. Cursing under her breath, Charlotte struggled to get the blade out, finally managing to yank it free and stumble backwards, feeling the heels of her feet near the edge of the bridge. Terrified, she glanced over her shoulder at the raging waters below, regaining her balance just as another walker got within arm's reach of her. Without time to time, she dove out of the way, barely dodging a lunge from the alive corpse and instead lying there on the metal floor, watching as it instead plunged into the river.

Unable to pause, she was quickly pounced on by the final walker, having to shove one on its shoulder and the other under its gnashing jaws, struggling to keep it from sinking its teeth into her neck. Frightened yells coming from her throat, she glanced at her machete, the weapon within reach, but she was pinned underneath it and unable to spare a hand to be able to grab it, instead forced to wrestle with it. With some exertion, she grunted and managed to roll with the walker, dislodging it from on top of her and tossing it over the edge, trying to crawl to her weapon when hands dug into her jeans. The weight of the walker over the ledge pulled her further off, hands madly searching for anything to grab as she yelled out. "Shit, Nick!"

He didn't come to her rescue. In a flash, her fingers dug into the ledge of the bridge, all of her dangling over while the walker held onto her leg, not possessing the strength needed to pull itself up and bite her. Glancing down, she kicked it a few times in the face, trying to dislodge it from her leg, and after a few unsuccessful attempts, she managed to kick it hard enough for it to lose grip and plunge down. Left dangling over the side by herself, she gasped when she felt her fingers starting to slip, calling out again in a blind panic. "Nick, fuck, I'm gonna fall!"

Suddenly, one of her hands slipped, leaving her holding on with only one hand that was too losing its strength, leaving Charlotte swaying slightly with only dark blue waters waiting for her below. However, a hand grabbed hold of her arm, stopping the grown woman was falling and starting to pull her up slightly. Glancing up, she was greeted not by Nick, but by an unknown survivor, his upper face hidden by his hood yet his lower part still exposed. Without a chance to say anything, she lifted her other hand and managed to grab the ledge again, pulling herself upwards with the help of her saviour, though she couldn't think about thanking him with her partner still disappeared.

Once she was up on safe ground, she immediately jumped to her feet and ran back the way they came, trying to find out where Nick had gone to. The stranger was behind her, though she wasn't paying attention when she found Nick in trouble, having collapsed through the wooden slats along the bridge and calling out. "Shit, help!"

"I'm here, Nick!" She replied desperately, rushing towards the hole and peering down into it. The other survivor was stuck down there, having been saved from a fall down into the river by some support beams stretched across, though he was one slip away from joining the walker that likely attacked him. Kneeling besides the hole, she leaned over and reached in to try and grab his hand, managing to get a hold on it and pulling with all the strength she had. Though she was too weak from the fighting just then, she managed to help Nick stand up on the support beams, backing off as he jumped up and finally climbed out of the hole he was trapped in.

Still kneeling there, she listened as he cursed. "Holy shit, that woulda been ugly. I heard you in some trouble but a lurker got me. Next thing I knew, I was stuck."

"I'm fine now." She consoled, remembering the strange man that had saved her. Looking over her shoulder, she found the man still standing there, looking actually pleased that they were safe.

"I spotted you guys coming along and thought I'd see what youse wanted." The man explained, glancing between the both of them before confessing. "To be honest, you guys looked like assholes, but I guess you aren't. What brings you to these parts?"

"We're just passing through. Thought we'd scout this bridge out, and now I'm glad we did." Charlotte confessed, getting up to her feet and offering her hand in greeting. "Name's Charlotte, and this here's Nick."

"Hey there, I'm Matthew, but friends just call me Matt." Matthew accepted her hand, shaking it gently before letting go and instead adjusting the strap of his rifle, looking over them before asking. "Is it just you guys out here?"

Unsure if she should reveal that there were others waiting back at the top of the cliff, Charlotte glanced at Nick momentarily, keeping quiet for a moment before deciding to be straight with Matthew, especially since she owed him her life for before. Nodding briefly, she gestured up to the cliff where her group was currently resting, explaining in a low tone. "The rest of our people are up on there. What 'bout you? You alone out here?"

"Nope, I live up in that ski lodge with my partner." He pointed at the ski lodge in the distance. So it wasn't abandoned, Charlotte thought to herself, but considering Matthew was kind enough to lend a helping hand and wasn't giving her any weird vibes while they talked, she decided to hear him out when he turned back around, offering with a smile on his face. "You guys are free to rest up there before heading out. We got plenty of food and som extra beds, even electricity from the wind turbine."

"What's the catch?" Nick interrogated, still not convinced about the good nature of the new survivor. Even though she felt somewhat guilty, Charlotte shared his sentiment, unsure how anyone could be so generous in times like these, even though she did offer her cabin to complete strangers before.

"No catch." Matthew shrugged. "Just tryin' to help people in need."

"Well… that's mighty kind of you." Charlotte muttered, still unsure whether the group could risk staying in one place for too long, as well as not knowing what the lodge was really like, especially since they only had Matthew's word on it. However, with Pete's leg and the whole group exhausted, battered and miserable after sleeping out in the open for nearly a week, she felt like she had no choice but to take the chance. "Alright, lemme flag our group down and we'll check this place out."

"Awesome, we can go ahead. I'm sure Walter will be able to whip something out for you guys. Hope you guys are hungry." He joked, though neither Nick or Charlotte laughed much at it. Awkwardly, he backed off, waiting patiently as Charlotte moved to the edge of the bridge and, staring up at where the group should be, raised her arm and gestured for them to come down with a flick of her wrist. After a few moments of waiting, she could make out a small arm waving back at her, signalling back that the group was coming after them.

With them alerted that the coast was clear, she turned back to Matthew and nodded in the direction of the cabin. "Might as well go ahead, they'll be a little while."

"Sure, let's go." Leading the way, the three of them crossed the rest of the bridge, reaching the other side of the canyon when Matthew, digging into the pocket of his hoodie, neared the small shack that Clementine likely saw beforehand. Keeping to the back, she watched as he pulled out a small key, moving to unlock the door while talking back to them. "I just need to grab some boxes to take up to the lodge. You guys think you can lend a hand?"

"Alright, I'll help out." Charlotte offered, following Matthew into the shack when he opened the front door. It was even more cramped inside, there barely being enough space for a single cot and a locked trunk shoved under the windows. Near the cot was some boxes of something, nothing on them to hint at what was packed inside, though Charlotte was paying more attention to the shelf hanging above the bed.

There wasn't much on there save for a knife, the blade sitting in a sheath that had the initials W.M engraved into the leather. Slowly, she picked it up and pulled the knife out, holding the sheath in one hand while twirling the weapon around in the other. It was a fine form of craftsmanship, light and easy to use for all different kinds of people, and when she returned it into the sheath, she overheard Matthew revealing from behind her. "Walter gave me that knife when all this started. Wanted something that I could defend myself with, said he worries about me. I say he worries too much, but it has saved my hide more than once out here."

"Nothing wrong with worrying about people you care about." She replied gruffly, placing the knife back on the shelf and instead turning her attention to the boxes, picking one of them off the ground. Frowning deeply at how heavy they were, she weighed it in her arms slightly before asking in a strained tone. "What's in these boxes? Bricks?"

"Just some food supplies that I've been meaning to bring up to the lodge. Never got round it it, but now that I got help and some visitors to feed, thought now would be as good a time as any." He grinned, ignoring Charlotte's unimpressed glares as he led her out of the shack again. Once outside, he placed the box down and locked the door again, keeping anyone from getting inside, before picking the food back up again.

They resumed their travels up the hill that the lodge was situated on. It was tiring, especially after the near death experience back on the bridge, and Charlotte found herself nearly tripping up while climbing up the side of the steep hill. Managing to regain her footing, she followed Matthew up the rest of the way with Nick walking in behind her, keeping watch in case they were ambushed by even more walkers. She had enough danger for one day. Once at the top, she paused to catch her breath and look at the view they got from the top. It was breathtaking, the sun bathing the valley and forests in warm light and the winds causing the trees to sway like waves in the ocean. None of the grey, thick winter clouds plagued the skies that day, hinting that things may actually be looking for the weary travellers.

"You likin' the view?" Matthew suddenly asked, appearing by her side while too watching the scenery.

Still staring at it all, she nodded softly and muttered in awe. "It's beautiful."

"Yeah, we've been pretty lucky coming across this place." Turning back to walk onto the patio, Charlotte and Nick followed after him, listening intently while their host carried on explaining with a beaming smile. "We actually came here before the dead once. Drank by the fire, did some skiing, nearly shattered my leg in three different places. It was a fun day."

"Fun… isn't what I'd describe that third point." Hell she wouldn't describe breaking your leg that bad as anything other than painful. Still, Matthew chuckled at the lighthearted jab before leading them past more boarded up windows, pausing in front of glass double doors that led inside the ski lodge. The whole place looked somewhat secure, if a bit daunting considering it was Matthew and Walter protecting all of it.

Pushing one of the doors open with his back and walking in backwards, he hooked his foot in the door so that Charlotte and Nick could enter in after him, only letting the door close again once the others were inside. It certainly was spacious, the small foyer they were standing in having a few benches to the side and wide stairs leading up to the rest of the ground floor. Matthew was the first up the stairs, not even slowed down by the heavy box he was carrying, and without a second glance around the others followed up after him, eager to see the rest of their temporary shelter. Once up the stairs, both Charlotte and Nick paused when they saw how warm and homely the lodge looked, even with hardly anyone staying there.

The huge Christmas tree caught the grown woman's attention. Small lights twinkling and tinsel sparkling in the sunlight beaming through the open windows, it was tall enough to reach the fenced off area above, some stairs built into the corner of the room to get up there. Snapped out of her awe, she found Matthew had already moved on, having reached the kitchen are while his companions were too busy staring at everything. When she jogged to catch up with him, she spotted another man behind the counter, sorting out breakfast while chatting away with their guide. He was definitely older than Matthew; with balding grey hair and wrinkled face, contrast to Matthew's black hair and seemingly youthful look.

As soon as she and Nick got close, Walter noticed their presence and greeted them in a friendly tone. "Well hello there. Matt was just telling me about what happened out there on the bridge."

"It was pretty much a shitshow out there." Charlotte pointed out, placing the box she was carrying on the counter to give her worn arms a break. Straightening back up, she glanced at Matthew for a moment, a relieved smile on her face. "If it wasn't for Matthew, I woulda been floating down the river by now."

"It always makes me happy when we can help someone in need." It was heartwarming listening to Walter's relieved tone, happy that the two survivors hadn't ended up walker food or just more bodies in the river gushing through the valley, even though to Walter, she and Nick were just a couple of strangers. However, what he was cooking in that pot drew her attention, her stomach growling out in want for something that wasn't straight out of a can.

Noticing her stares, Walter laughed and pointed out correctly. "I wouldn't be surprised if you guys were hungry after all that happened. I started breakfast, and it should be done when the rest of your friends get here."

"While we're waiting, I'll go back to the bridge and tell them of this place." Nick suggested, turning to Charlotte while adding. "I lost the knife you gave me on the bridge. Any chance I can borrow your machete?"

"Here, just try not to lose this too. I'm pretty attached to it now." she joked, unsheathing her machete and handing it over to Nick so that he had something to defend himself with. Taking it, her smile faded slightly when she whispered. "Be quick. I still don't know much about these folks, and I'd rather not be alone."

"I'll try to hurry back." He promised, holding onto the weapon before turning around and making his way back to the front doors, leaving Charlotte alone with their hosts. Watching him go nervously, she was snapped out of her thoughts by a loud thud, turning around to see WAlter having moved the boxes that she and Matthew brought in onto the floor, pushing it under the counter for later use before turning his attention back to the food.

"You should go and make yourself comfortable, no doubt you're exhausted from your travels." He suggested, glancing up at her with a smile before turning his attention back to Matthew. "And you should go and clean up the bedrooms like you were meant to do earlier."

"Yessir." Matthew shot back with a smirk, walking past Charlotte as he went to go and do his chores. Slowly, she too left Walter alone to get breakfast ready, rather taking the time to scope out the place and see what it was like, or if there was anything to stop her irrational thoughts and distrust in those people. Near the kitchen area was a large hall full of long tables and benches, somewhat similar to a school cafeteria in her opinion, and it almost made her nostalgic for the time she spent in school. It was a simpler time, but when she was a teenager, it felt like everything really mattered, even things that, when she looked back on, were really small things that didn't change much when she got older.

Leaving the dining hall, she instead walked over to the small lodge area where the Christmas tree had been set up, spotting a couch in front of an unlit fireplace and making a beeline straight for it, eager to rest after the amount of walking she and her group did. Once she sat down, she felt the aches and strains in her body hit her all at one without anything to distract her anymore, Charlotte groaning to herself as she tried to shift about to get more comfortable. Her leg bothered her, slowly getting more and more difficult to ignore when finally she leaned forward and rolled her jeans up, inspecting the skin to find that, where the walker had grabbed hold of her and dragged Charlotte off the bridge, the skin had become bruised and grazed, finger sized mark running all around her ankle.

"That'll leave a mark." She grumbled to herself, deciding to leave it alone to heal and instead sank further into the couch. It certainly was more comfortable than the couch back at the cabin, along with no strange musty smells coming from the cushions either, and soon enough, she leaned her arm against the arm of the couch and decided to take the moment to rest. Between that and the ground, she would pick the couch every time.

Eventually, her eyes closed and she felt herself relax into the couch, though she kept an ear out in case something needed her attention. In the background, she could make out the faint sound of music, Christmas music that sounded like it wouldn't be out of place in someone's home while the family was around for the holiday. Her thought drifted back to the Christmases she spent, but the one that stuck most was the one that had just passed, the cabin clear in her mind and the feeling of the warm fire hot on her skin, even though she knew it wasn't real anymore. Laughter, presents opened and the group gathering around and enjoying life for once, she was happy that she gave that opportunity to her brothers, but once again, her heart clenched tightly when she pictured Dylan's cheesy grin.

Reading his comics in peace, he even allowed Clementine to sit on his lap while he was sitting in the chair, helping the child read the words in his book while staring at the pictures. After she reunited with the group, those same comics were given to Clementine, but there was something different and heart wrenching when watching her read them alone, not looking nearly as happy as she was when she had Dylan reading them with her. Soon enough, she just stopped reading altogether, even rejecting anyone's help to teach her. It was something they did together.

Even though she waited a while, she was unable to fall asleep and instead groaned to herself, opening her eyes again to look around some more. The Christmas tree was the first thing she glanced at, picking herself up off the couch and limping towards the ginormous thing. Fingers plucked at the baubles hanging off the branches, she turned one around in her hand, watching the light bouncing off with an intrigued gaze, feeling like she was unable to pull herself away from it. Distracted by the shiny objects wrapped around the tree, she overheard Matthew pipe up from behind her. "You liking the tree?"

Nearly jumping out of her skin, her head snapped in the direction of her voice, body tense, but Matthew on the other hand was perfectly relaxed, unfazed by her action as he carried on explaining. "We found all these lights and stuff in storage and thought, considering it was Christmas, might as well decorate the place up a bit."

"It's pretty cosy here." She praised, crossing her arms over her chest while overlooking the lodge with steeled eyes. "Pretty big to defend with only two people. How come you haven't gotten a bigger group?"

"We offered to other survivors, but mostly they just needed a place to rest before going back out. Either they're looking for loved ones, getting away from people, or just don't trust anyone anymore." The mention of people running away from their problems caused Charlotte to grimace to herself, trying to hide it away from Matthew as to not raise suspicion. He was too busy staring at the tree to spot her shift in expression. "What're you guys planning on doing? After youse rest up and that?"

"We're gonna go back on the road. No offense, I'm glad y'all let us stay here, but we're trying to get up to Pittsburgh to look for someone."

"Oh, well I hope you guys find whoever you're looking for." Matthew clasped a hand on her shoulder, earning a small awkward smile from Charlotte before pointing out. "You can look around some more. The bedrooms are up that set of stairs there."

Following his gesture to the set of stairs, she nodded silently and took the chance to further scope the place out, making her way towards them while Matthew went off to do something. The stairs were certainly old, creaking under her weight as she walked up them towards the balcony above, eager to see the rest of the lodge. Once she got to the top, she stared out over the whole ski lodge, watching Walter carry on cooking in the kitchen while Matthew lent a helping hand, starting to unpack the boxes that he and Charlotte had brought in, putting away more cans that were too small to see from where she was standing. Moving back from the railing, she walked past the couches in the small sitting area and carried on around the walkway, checking the bedrooms as she went on.

Some were small, only having a single bed and some drawers, as well as a wardrobe, where the clothes would have been kept, though they were practically empty when Charlotte looked through them. The bed were more comfortable than the couch, certainly more so than the ground, though she refrained from lying down on them in fear that she would fall asleep right there and then, rather carrying on through the bedrooms to pick one for herself. Eventually, she picked the one at the end of the doors. It was only small again. A single bed pushed up against the wall with empty cupboards, a few pictures of mountains and forests hung up on the wooden feature wall to help with the ambience of the room. It was very cosy, the fluffy rug welcome even though she was still wearing her boots.

Shrugging her rucksack off her back and dropping it to the floor, she took the time she had to get more comfortable, slipping off her thick winter boots, and even peeling off her dirty socks when she sat down on the mattress. Her bare feet felt cold to the touch, blistered and swollen from the journey she and the group were on, stinging when her cold hands touched them. Rummaging through her bag, she managed to find a cleanish pair of socks, the worn feel scratchy and uncomfortable to her touch but, without anything else, she slipped them on and stood up once more, pulling her jacket off her shoulders and arms. Before she tossed it on the bed, she paused, staring at the dirty blue clothing with a saddened frown pulling at her lips, her eyes falling down to the ground momentarily as she compromised herself.

Even a couple of months after it happened, the sting of losing Samantha plagued her to that day. She would be lying if she denied thinking about what would happen if her girlfriend was still there, helping people and going through the days where Charlotte felt like there was no point in going on, pushing her through every step of the way. But she was gone. Unable to stomach looking at her only momentum of the deceased woman, she tossed the jacket on the bed, leaving her standing there in her long sleeved shirt and tank top underneath. With the weather as cold as it was, she needed all the layers she needed.

With the door open, she overheard voices chatting away quietly, raising an eyebrow in curiosity as she left to go and see who it was. With her bedroom door left open, all her belongings put away inside, she peered over the railing down below and smiled softly when she saw that the rest of her group had made it safely to the lodge, watching Sarah pointing out the tree to Clementine and moving towards it, only to be stopped by her father. Disappointed, she nonetheless obeyed him and stuck by his side while Walter addressed them all. "You guys are just in time for breakfast. Come on, you can leave your weapons over there."

"I'd rather keep hold of my rifle, thanks." Nick rejected, still holding onto the machete Charlotte lent him before.

Quickly, Charlotte made her way around the walkway towards the stairs, overhearing Christa as she demanded loudly, distrust woven in her words while she did so. "Where's Charlotte?"

"She just went upstairs to one of the bedrooms. She should be down in a moment." Matthew revealed. The distrust in her group was obvious even from the stairs where Charlotte was standing, quickening her pace down the stairs and towards the others before they started getting agitated. When she appeared at the top of the stairs leading down into the foyer, Christa's hardened look softened when she saw that their hosts were telling the truth. Even Sam was ecstatic to see his owner again, barking as he ran over to her side, desperate for strokes and cuddles from the grown woman while she rubbed the sides of his face affectionately.

"I still don't wanna give up our weapons." Carlos pointed out, unmoved from Charlotte's presence while his hand held onto his daughter's shoulder, keeping her close in case something happened.

His words made sense to Charlotte, who nodded in agreement and, leaving Sam alone for the moment, turned her head to talk it out with Walter. "It'd be safer if something goes down. They're good people, they ain't gonna do nothin' unless someone else starts it."

"Well, I'd rather they didn't carry weapons around, but… alright." The older man conceded, turning to the others with his smile faded slightly. "Let's go and eat then, I'm sure you guys are starving."

"Hell yeah." Omid agreed, eager to sit down and eat after all that walking. Happily, Walter and Matthew guided the group up towards the dining hall, the former splitting off to go and serve up the food that he had finished cooking. Nick silently returned Charlotte's machete to her, the grown woman accepting it with a brief nod and sheathing it on her hip, happy to have her weapon back where it belonged. The long dining table was big enough to seat everyone on it, the group prefering to stick together rather than go off and sit at the others.

Taking a seat at the table, Charlotte crossed her arms over the smooth wooden surface, offering a smile to Clementine when the child climbed up and sat in the spot next to her, Charlotte sandwiched in when Pete sat down on her other side. Sam was left sitting on the floor, lying underneath the seat and waiting for his own dinner to come. She'd have to feed him later, unwilling to have anyone else be at risk of being bitten again. Her bandaged hand still ached, and she found it difficult to move her thumb properly, worrying that after the time she gave it to heal up, she was dealing with some nerve damage.

Mason said nothing to anyone, taking a seat opposite his sister and waited patiently for their food. She watched him closely, trying to will herself to try and talk with him after days of silence and him ignoring her, but she couldn't do it, just sitting there with saddened eyes before Clementine caught her attention. "I saw what happened on the bridge. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, just a bruised leg, but if Matthew wasn't there to save me… I dunno if I would be sitting here right now." That made Mason tense up, his face turning dark while he just stared at the table top, though his shift in expression didn't go unnoticed by his sister as she tried to comfort him. "Hey, bud, it's alright. I'm still here."

"I know." His response was quick, sharp, something that made Charlotte frown to herself while the teenage boy kept to himself. Before she could try to reach out to him again, she was interrupted by Matthew coming over with a couple of bowls in his hands. The children were the first to get their food, Sarah tucking into her food while Clementine poked it slightly, unsure what it was as Charlotte watched on in amusement, finding it particularly hilarious how that little button nose scrunched up.

"Clementine." Christa scolded, frowning deeply at the child while she only looked up with those large eyes. "Don't be rude playing with your food."

Bashfully, she put a spoonful of the mush into her mouth and swallowed, though by the look on her face, the food wasn't all that great. Stifling a chuckle, Charlotte glanced down at her own bowl when it was placed in front of her, suddenly finding the situation a whole less funny upon seeing the food up close. It was mush. The cans of peaches did not look appealing with what could only be guessed as beans, though when Charlotte finally managed to put some in her mouth, she found that Walter had a certain way of making food edible even in the most bizarre combinations. Was that salt in there? Spooning up more, she didn't know how hungry she exactly was until finding most of her bowl empty in an instant, pausing in her eating when she heard Omid ask their hosts. "So, this place is pretty awesome. You guys met anyone else coming through?"

"Loads of people." Matthew replied, his spoon hovering in front of his mouth. "We had a woman come through about a week back. She was alone, pretty much a loner, and needless to say she didn't stick around for long. Have no idea where she is now."

"That must be pretty lonely." Sarah mumbled, finishing her food with one last spoonful, chewing on it while appearing thoughtful.

"I agree. People aren't meant to be alone, it can drive you insane." Walter nodded.

Clementine paused in her eating. Her spoon dropped back in the bowl, and when Charlotte glanced down to see what was wrong, she saw the child just staring at her food, her upper face hidden away under the brim of her hat. Soon enough, Clementine piped up in a depressed tone. "Sometimes it's better to be alone."

"Hmmm? What makes you say that?" Walter asked, curious as to why she would say something like that, especially since she was a nine year old girl.

"People can be mean." Clementine explained, looking up at the grown man with a stoic expression. "Some people hurt others. It's because of people that my friends are dead."

Her words caused Christa and Omid to look at each other, the pregnant woman moving her hand to comfort their adopted daughter, but when she brushed against Clementine's bubble jacket, she pushed the bowl away and got up from her seat, walking away with her shoulders trembling slightly. After that small outburst, the group awkwardly glanced at each other, unsure what to do when, out of everyone, Mason pushed his bowl away, having finished while everyone was talking, and followed after his friend. Charlotte thought against telling him to stay put and rather let him go, chewing on the last bit of food in her bowl.

With someone to go after the upset girl, she listened as Christa apologised. "I'm sorry, she just had a really hard time a while back."

"It's fine. It's just sad seeing someone so young so untrusting." Walter sighed, tucking into his food. Charlotte could agree with that, glancing over to find that the two younger survivors had disappeared somewhere, unsure where they went and decided to go and check up on them. Muttering to the others, she got up to her feet and walked off, leaving the rest of her group to finish their food and converse with Walter and Matthew.

The lounge area with the fireplace was empty. Glancing over the couch, she shook her head when she didn't spot the others, turning towards the stairs and approaching them, trying to be a quiet as possible to not disturb them. Slowly, she climbed up the stairs, peering up to see that they weren't sitting up on the balcony. Once she reached the top, she snuck past the couches towards the bedrooms, wondering if they had gone into one of the rooms, though before she could keep walking, she spotted a door slightly ajar near some unboarded windows. The music playing below was soft, but when Charlotte approached the door, she could hear the kids inside, her heart clenching tightly when she made out some quiet sobbing that could only be Clementine.

"I know it's hard." She overheard Mason console. "It's one of the hardest things to get over, but it wasn't your fault. Sometimes, people die and there's not much we can do to change it."

"I don't get it… I don't get why he had to go, after I found my parents out there, an-and then… I had to make sure he didn't come back as a walker." Clementine hiccuped, the sound of her voice sounding so broken and distraught breaking Charlotte's heart, her wanting to just go in there and comfort the poor child, but she wanted to let Mason console her first.

"There, there. If it helps, you don't have to see him as one of those things."

"I… I just want him to be here. I wish I never went with that man, I wish I never tried to find my parents!" Clementine broke down into more crying after that. Unable to handle just standing outside the door and doing anything, Charlotte interrupted the conversation by opening the door more, peering in to see that the both of them were sitting on the double bed, Mason's arm slung over Clementine's shaking shoulders while she had her face buried into his jacket. As soon as his eyes fell on his sister, he narrowed his eyes, trying to gesture for her to leave them alone while Clem grieved.

Rather than trying to fight and be there for the little girl, she nodded softly with a saddened frown before closing the door again, leaving them alone to grieve in their own time. Standing outside the door, hand still holding onto the door knob, she sighed deeply to herself before managing to tear herself away from the bedroom and disappear off into her own, wishing for some time alone after that. Once inside, she closed the door behind her, leaning against it with her head tapping against the wooden frame gently, not enough to actually hurt herself. After a few taps, she pushed herself off the door and the few steps to her bed. The mattress sunk under her weight, and she just sat there leaning forward, her elbows pressed against her thighs and her hands hanging above the wooden floor.

Slowly, her eyes drifted down to the rucksack left propped up against her bed frame. Hands moving to pick it up, she left it on top of her lap while rummaging through its contents, her fingers moving a few cans out of the way before grazing against something strange. It felt like leather, the sensation weird to Charlotte as she pulled out the object to get a better look, staring down with raised eyebrows before her eyes widened slightly. It was a small book. However, rather than a story printed on the slightly worn pages, she found handwriting that resembled Dylan's. Her voice was quiet, barely a whisper, as she muttered to herself. "A diary? When'd he get this?"

The apprehensiveness of reading in her brother's diary caused her hands to freeze, unsure if she wanted to read the obviously personal words, but eventually, she wanted to know what he felt when he was alive, and decided to skim through the paragraphs. The first few ones dated before the outbreak, talking about his school life and how his parents annoyed him about one thing or another. Typical teenager stuff. However, soon she found passages during the time she was still with her old group, finding that Dylan had been terrified whenever she left to find more supplies, especially after Elizabeth died. Flicking through the pages, she paused when she found one, the date put only a few days before his death.

_I don't even know what date it is anymore. We've been on the road for a few days now, running away from this Carver dude. Charlotte doesn't wanna say anything, but she's terrified, I can tell. She and Carlos had been arguing some more about some stupid shit, but I guess everyone's been on edge lately. At least Clem and I have some fun with our comics. I should really find some more for her, she's starting to get bored with the ones I have._

_I'm not looking forward to rationing tonight. Charlotte hasn't eaten anything. I don't want her to get weak._

She could feel hot tears pricking in the corners of her eyes. Wiping them away with the sleeve of her shirt, she looked at the final entry of the book, finding that the handwriting was shaky and kinda hard to read, but the words made her throat close up when she finally deciphered them.

_I'm such an idiot. I should've kept an eye on my surroundings, but now I guess it's over. I've been bit. This is probably the last entry I'm gonna make in this thing, but hopefully you will read this, Charlotte. Before I die, I just wanted to let you know that you were the best sister I could've asked for, and at least you can be there for Mason for this. I'm sorry for all the shit I gave you, and for all the times I made things harder than it shoulda been, but… I still don't wanna die._

Tears were visible on the pages, dried from the time the book had been kept in the bag, but Charlotte could still make them out.

_I don't wanna die. I don't wanna die. I don't wann-_

The passage cut off there. She didn't know what happened, likely he gave up writing, but he must have been so scared sitting there, trying to keep calm while she just slept beside him. Her fingers gripped the book hard, tears streaming down her face while she tried to keep her sobs quiet, unwilling to let anyone overhear her, but soon enough her chest hurt from the lack of air she was unable to get into her lungs. Leaning back onto the bed, she clutched the book close to her chest, staring up at the ceiling while the tears fell down the side of her cheeks and soaking the duvet underneath her. Softly shaking her head, she whispered to herself. "I'm so sorry, Dylan."

Sniffling, she remained like that until hearing the door opening, sitting upright in a flash and ready to tell the person coming in to leave her alone, though her words died when she saw that it was Sarah coming in. Trying her best to wipe away the tears, she called out to the teenager. "Hey, Sarah. Something you need?"

"No, I… I was just checking to see if you were alright." She replied nervously, coming further into the room and shutting the door behind her when Charlotte made no protest. Watching closely, she didn't make a sound while Sarah carried on rambling. "I went to see Mason and Clem, but they just needed some time alone. So, I thought I'd see what you were doing… What's that?"

She gestured to the diary Charlotte was holding tightly. Glancing down at the book, she thought for a moment whether to try and hide it or come clean with Sarah, knowing that she was friends with Dylan too despite the short amount of time they actually knew each other for. Finally, she sighed and patted the spot next to her, waiting for Sarah to sit down before she opened the diary again. "It's Dylan's diary. He got it before the plague, wrote in it when he wanted someone to talk to. I guess it helped for those months where I was gone."

"Oh, where'd you go?"

"I was in university. Studying for a law degree, and I was pretty good at it." She explained, flicking through the pages before adding grimly. "It meant that I wasn't around much. I never even knew he had this."

"I miss Dylan. He was really nice, he even let me have the last candy bar when we ran out." Sarah revealed, smiling warmly as she reminisced. "We even stayed up and told stories while the others were sleeping. He told me about the farm he grew up on, and I told him about the times I went with my dad to his office in the hospital. They were nice."

"I'm grateful you were there for him. He needed a friend, everyone does, but he was pretty lucky to know you and Clementine before he… he died." The words caught in her throat like a large lump, almost impossible to spit out until she managed to push it out. Unwilling to start crying again in front of the teen, she quickly wiped the corners of her eyes and changed the subject. "So, what'd you think of the lodge?"

"I love the Christmas tree! We weren't able to get one while we were in Howe's, and I don't think we were able to have on while on the road, but that's okay. The one Walter and Matthew has doesn't have anything at the top, though." Sarah revealed, disappointed in that little detail. It seemed so normal, mundane even, and Charlotte chuckled at that as she ruffled the top of the teenager's head.

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" She asked, earning a shake of the head from Sarah. So, getting up to her feet and leaving the diary on the bed, she offered her hand for the girl to grab, leading her out of the bedroom while laughing. "Come on, we'll see if we can find something to finish decorating that tree."


	17. A House Divided

Huge. That's all Charlotte could think while she and Sarah walked along the first floor walkway, having left her room in search of a topper to complete the Christmas tree decorations. Looking over the railings, she noticed her group settling in already, even if it was only temporarily. The music playing faintly in the background livened the place up, softly echoing in the empty space along with chatter and some laughing, mostly from Omid as he likely made another bad joke again. Even Sam was enjoying a roof over his head as he made himself comfortable on the couch by the fireplace, sleeping soundly while the fire continued to burn through the thick logs being fed to it.

Once they reached the resting area by the stairs leading down, she spotted Pete resting his bandaged leg, Carlos kneeling beside it while Nick leaned against the railing nearby, nervously chewing the skin of his thumb. Sarah left Charlotte's side, approaching Pete with the grown woman following close behind, asking the injured survivor nervously. "You alright there, Pete?"

"My leg still hurts like shit and it's swollen to hell." He grunted, gritting his teeth when Carlos dabbed at the wound. Sarah backed off, clearly disgusted with the look of the wound, so Charlotte walked forward instead, keeping the teenager behind her as she got a better look at the injury. After days of walking and straining himself, the wound looked serious, the flesh still torn and mangled from where the bullet went through, and even some infection was clear with discharge being wiped away from the wound site.

"Sarah, go downstairs for a moment. I would like to talk to Charlotte." Carlos ordered, glancing up from Pete's leg at his daughter with a stern expression. Sarah said nothing, though she obviously wanted to stay with her friend, sharing a frown with Charlotte before the latter gestured to the stairs with a flick of her head. Sighing deeply, she slowly shuffled past the adults gathered around, walking down the stairs without a single word being uttered in her defense.

As soon as Sarah was gone, Charlotte asked the doctor with her arms crossed over her chest. "How bad is it?"

"The bullet wound is infected. I've cleaned it as best I could, and luckily Walter and Matthew were generous enough to lend us medical supplies to treat it." He explained, pouring some more disinfectant on a clean rag before dabbing it on the wound. Pete's leg flinched away, but the elderly man didn't shout out in pain or make any noise, instead pushing through the pain while Carlos continued. "Still, we have to wait and see if he can walk properly again."

"He needs rest." Nick pushed angrily, lowering his thumb while approaching the trio with narrowed eyes.

His words caused Carlos to frown deeply, looking up at Nick while angrily chastising him. "We don't have time for rest. Carver could be tracking us down as we speak, and if we want to stay ahead of him, we have to keep moving."

"I don't think we have the opportunity to keep moving." Charlotte pointed out, taking Nick's side as they turned their attention to her. "We ain't gonna get far with the way Pete is. Besides, Carver didn't know where we were heading or where we could've ended up at. I think we can take a chance to get some rest."

Nick seemed relieved with Charlotte taking his side. Carlos, however, was even more pissed off with her ignoring his warnings, and coldly turned back to finish cleaning Pete's wound. After sitting there listening, the injured party finally piped up in his guttural voice. "Let's keep it calm here. Charlotte's right, Carver doesn't know where we are, but that didn't stop him before. We thought the same thing when we came across the cabin."

The cabin. Charlotte's face fell at the mention of it, wishing to be back there with her group and none of these problems plaguing them. Pete paused for a moment, sucking in through his teeth when Carlos accidentally pushed too hard on his injury while bandaging it back up again, having pushed his pants up past his knee to get at the wound site better. When he managed to get the pain under control, he carried on hashing it out with the others around him. "I'm gonna admit it. I can't get far on this leg anymore. So, if there's a point where the group's being affected by me, you guys have to go on without me."

"Uncle Pete, you can't be serious!" Nick snapped, shaking his head with widened eyes before adding angrily. "No, we're _not_ doing that!"

"Think about it, son. We have to think about the welfare of everyone. Not just one person."

"Bullshit! We ain't talking about this!" With that, Nick stormed down the stairs, leaving the three survivors behind, still reeling from his explosive response. Charlotte said nothing, staring at the staircase with a soft shaking of her head. She understood his reaction, knowing that Pete was his only family member left, and still plagued by the images of Emma dying that she couldn't shake off. Yet, she understood that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. If Carver came knocking before they were ready to flee, the group may not have had a choice in the matter.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Pete sighed. "That boy… You get what I'm saying, Charlie? I don't like the idea of the group going on without me, but this is the reality we gotta face."

"I get it, but you can't get angry at Nick for reacting this way. He did just lose his mom days ago." She pointed out, turning to stare down at Pete with heavy shoulders sagging down. "It's not nice thinking about losing another member of your family after just losing one."

No one said anything at that. She was glad they didn't, knowing that they were all thinking about Dylan, wondering how she was coping with his death and wanting to ask her, yet refraining in fear of what it would to do with her. Pushing the thought of the absent teen from her mind, she said nothing else to them and left to walk down the stairs. Nick was nowhere to be found, but Sarah was waiting patiently on the couch, watching the fire burning while absentmindedly stroking Sam beside her. Charlotte didn't speak when she saw the cute scene, smiling faintly when she noticed the canine huffing quietly, still fast asleep enjoying his dreams.

After a few moments, Sarah spotted her from the corner of her eyes and lit up instantly, standing up from the couch before asking her friend in an excited tone. "Are we gonna finish the tree now?"

"Damn right we are. Let's go and see if Walter can tell us where any are." Pointing at the kitchen area with her thumb, Charlotte allowed Sarah to walk past her before following, keeping close behind while the two walked over to where their host was seen. After breakfast, Walter was stuck on dish duty, scrubbing away at the giant pot with his back turned to the approaching two.

"Hey, Walt." Charlotte called out, raising her hand in greeting when they reached the counter. Stopping with his pot, he looked over his shoulder, smiling brightly at the two before the older woman asked. "We've been wondering. How come you haven't put something on the top of the tree?"

"Oh, right! We just finished decorating a few days ago, along with all the lights and that. To be honest we just haven't found the time between surviving and helping people who pass by to find the toppers." He explained, leaving the dishes for a moment as he suggested. "If you guys wanna finish it for us, that'd be a big help. You'll find the toppers in a cardboard box near the tree. Matthew probably left it there again."

"Sure. Come on, Sarah, let's go and check it out."

"Thanks, Walter!" Sarah piped up gratefully, earning a nod from the older survivor before she ran off to follow after Charlotte. With that in mind, she scanned the couch area in hopes of spotting the box. Sam whined softly as they approached the couch, watching the two with his wide brown eyes before licking his nose, resting his head on the arm as Charlotte rubbed the top of his head affectionately.

Ignoring the half asleep dog, she spotted something beside the stairs. When she approached it, she was pleased to see that it was the cardboard box that Walter mentioned, picking it up off the floor and walking back to the table next to the couch. Sarah stared at it as Charlotte put it down, rummaging through the contents before pulling out a huge gold star, staring at her reflection in the dirty metal surface, before she noticed an angel in there as well. Picking that up in her free hand, she straightened up and turned to face Sarah, holding both the ornaments with a smirk. "Angel or star. Those are our options."

"We always had an angel on the top of our tree." Sarah revealed.

"It was always a big party at Christmas back at home." Lowering her hand holding the star, Charlotte mused quietly while staring at the angel, sharing a quick chuckle as she remembered something. "Mama would always knit us these really itchy sweaters that you had to wear at the Christmas dinner. Dad always had a reindeer on his, and every year, he wore his sweater around the town while doing the Christmas shopping. He gushed about how Mama made it for him and how it was always a family tradition. I guess I didn't really share the spirit."

"How come?"

"I loved my family, but they were pretty loud. I had so many cousins and aunts and uncles that I couldn't possibly remember them all, and when I was accepted into law school, I just… stopped going to many of the parties." She paused, her eyes looking over every little detail and scratch in the porcelain angel's face. "I always went over on Christmas day, but I don't know… I shoulda been there more."

Sarah kept quiet. For a brief moment, she seemed concerned for the grown woman, but before she could say anything, Charlotte shook off those intruding thoughts and put a fake smile on her face, tossing the star back in the box. Angel in hand, she turned on her foot and walked over to the stairs. "Angel it is, then."

Not waiting long enough for Sarah to bring up her shift in expression, she jogged up the stairs quickly, her feet creaking on the old steps as she climbed up. When she reached the top, she ignored Pete resting on the couch, Carlos nowhere to be seen, and instead turned her attentions to the top of the tree poking into view. Carefully, she leaned over the railing, groaning to herself when she saw how high off the ground she was. Nervously, she stretched her free hand out, the bandages wrapped around the limb preventing the fake pine needles from digging into her skin, pulling the top of the tree closer so she could slip the angel on. Once it was in place, she released the tree, taking a step back to admire the cute little ornament.

The light shining through the large windows made the tinsel halo on the angel's head sparkle.

"I see you and Sarah have found something for the top of the tree. She's been goin' on about it since we got here." Pete chuckled, relaxing on the couch with his eyes shut. Charlotte smirked at that, shaking her head gently before returning down the stairs, leaving Pete alone to enjoy some peace and quiet after that tense confrontation before with Nick. Spotting Sarah staring up at the tree, she paused on the stairs, leaning over to listen as she gasped at the sight of the angel.

"She's pretty." Charlotte nodded at that, pleased with how happy the teenager was over something as simple as an old Christmas ornament. Slowly, she overlooked the rest of the lodge, amazed with the lights that were hung around everywhere, even wrapped around the pillars supporting the roof high above. It all looked so beautiful.

From beside her, she heard a quiet voice ask. "What's this?"

Surprised, she glanced up the stairs, finding Clementine standing there staring at the angel on top of the tree. Pushing herself off the bannister, she too looked up at the star and explained. "Sarah and I wanted to finish decorating the tree. What'd ya think?"

"It's neat." She replied slowly, rubbing the upper part of her arm nervously. Something was off about her, Charlotte didn't know what, but she was going to find out. Silently, she gestured for Clementine to follow her down the stairs, rejoining Sarah in front of the tree before waiting for the child to follow after her. Clementine didn't say anything, trudging along with her hat hiding away her upper face.

As soon as she was by Charlotte's side, the oldest of the trio asked in a tender voice. "Clem, what's wrong? You seem upset."

She feared it was what triggered Clementine's brief breakdown in her bedroom before. However, she didn't know what to say when the child confessed softly, her voice barely audible. "It's Mason. He's sad, but he didn't wanna say why. When I asked what was wrong he told me to go away."

"Did he now? Shit…" Charlotte cursed to herself, leaning forward to keep eye level with the little girl. A brief nod from her was the only response she would get. So, straightening herself out again, she affectionately tapped the top of Clementine's head, trying to keep her spirits up while comforting her. "Don't worry. I'm gonna go and check up on him."

"I don't think you should. He's really mad." Clementine rejected, obviously worried for her friends. Yet, Charlotte brushed off her concerns and, losing that small smile on her face, left the two to have fun together while she walked up the stairs again. Sarah watched her go nervously, before approaching Clementine and quietly comforting her with a hand on her shoulder, the two talking to each other quietly, though Charlotte couldn't hear them.

Pete was fast asleep when she climbed to the top of the staircase. Passing by the couch, she stared at his pale face, noticing his skin becoming clammy and drenched in sweat while his body fought off whatever infection was eating away at him. Worry churned in her stomach, twisting it painfully as she thought about what the group would do if they didn't get better, but that was an issue for later. At that moment, she had to deal with Mason's degrading state. So she left the sleeping survivor alone and went to the bedroom she spotted Mason in before. When she reached it, the door was closed, the inside of the bedroom creepily quiet as she tried to listen in.

Taking in a deep breath, she turned the door knob and peered through the crack in the door. It was only when she pushed the door halfway did she hear a voice call out angrily. "Whoever that is, go away."

"It's just me, buddy." Mason didn't relax even after she made it clear it was just her. Rather, he carried on lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling with furrowed eyebrows, turning over slightly so that his back was to Charlotte when she walked fully into the room. Closing the door behind her to get some privacy, she paused, unsure what to do or to say with Mason trying to pretend that she wasn't even there. It hurt her deeply seeing her brother like this. Finally, she pushed down the tension in her stomach and approached the bed.

The mattress sunk under her weight, some of Mason's body nearly slipping into the trench before he shuffled further away, dangling precariously over the edge on the other side of the bed. Nothing was spoken between them for ages, rather Charlotte keeping silent as she thought deeply, trying to think of a way to get through to the younger sibling without pushing him too far. Eventually, she sighed deeply and confessed. "I don't know what to do here, Mason. I need you to talk to me."

"No. Leave me alone." His voice was cold. Flinching away like she had just been burnt, Charlotte's heart dropped while she thought about it, wanting to leave him to mourn in peace, but she was hurting too, and she didn't want him to face that pain alone.

Reaching out, she placed a hand on his shoulder, muttering calmly to him. "I know you miss Dylan. I do too, but we can at least grieve for him toge-"

"What did I just say?!" Mason snapped, snatching his shoulder away when he shot upwards, allowing Charlotte to get a good look at his face. His eyes were red from crying and rubbing them, the tear streaks still visible running down his cheeks, though what got her were the uncontrollable rage that was clear to see in those piercing blue eyes of his. Pulling her hand back, she couldn't get a word in when he carried on his ranting. "Why can't you just leave me the _fuck_ alone?!"

"Mason…" The hurt tone in her voice got through to him. Eyes widening for a split second, he quickly looked away, laying back down on his bed with his back to her, hiding away his face so that she couldn't see him. The air was thick with tension, the outburst leaving Charlotte reeling with shock as she just sat there quietly. Soon, she decided it was best to leave him alone, not wanting to be screamed at again, and got up to her feet. He didn't move or say anything as she walked back to the door.

Hand on the solid wood, she stopped for a moment, glancing over her shoulder as she painfully called out. "I love you."

When he didn't respond to her, she felt her heart finally shatter and looked down at the floor, slowly closing the door behind her to give him some privacy. Once she was outside the room, she leaned against the door, tapping the back of her head against the wooden surface while sighing deeply. Rather than crumble down onto the floor, she pushed the agony away and wiped her eyes, clearing them of the few pesky tears that threatened to fall. They'd get through this period of melancholy. She was sure of it. With her sorrow subdued, she walked over to the railing and peered over it, watching Sarah hiding behind a pillar while Clementine stood in the middle of the room, counting down in an exasperated tone like she really didn't want to play the game.

It was nice seeing them act like kids. Charlotte didn't move, watching over them protectively while the younger of the two called out to Sarah, looking around in hopes of finding her friend. A small chuckle escaped her throat when she noticed Sarah moving around the pillar just as Clementine approached it, always keeping out of sight. Christa and Omid were watching from the couch, likely having moved over there while Charlotte left to check up on Mason. Omid laughed about something, even though Christa shook her head in annoyance, her face too far away for Charlotte to see clearly. They all looked happy. It was great seeing it, especially after having to see their worn and exhausted faces the days they were on the road, trudging along the road to God knows where next.

It was only around noon then. Bored out her mind, not used to staying in one place for too long without at least having supply runs and guard watch to do, she found herself twiddling her thumbs, unsure what could be done with food and security already established in the ski lodge. There wasn't anything else for her to do. Humming under her breath, she decided to at least get some fresh air, needing some time to herself without people chattering and laughing, even if she preferred that to miserable groaning and complaints.

Pushing herself off the railing, she walked all the way around to the staircase, careful not to wake Pete up while walking down the steps. When she tried to walk past the couch without alerting anyone, she was called out to by Christa. "Charlie, how's Mason?"

"He's, uh…" She trailed off, stopping in her tracks with her hands planted firmly on her hips. Gently, she shook her head in response, unable to stop the concern from seeping into her words. "He's not doing too good."

"I'm sure it'll be alright. He's a pretty tough kid." Omid comforted. His words did little to actually help Charlotte's feelings of uselessness, but she nonetheless nodded in response, a fake smile on her face in hopes of appeasing her friends' concern.

"Yeah, hopefully. I'm just gonna go out and get some fresh air." Pointing at the doors with her thumb, she noticed Christa's shift of expression, quickly jumping in before the pregnant survivor could voice her concern. "It'll be fine. I won't wander too far from the lodge. Just need some time to myself."

Unconvinced, Christa wanted to say how she felt about the idea, but refrained from doing so and instead sighed quietly. "Well… alright. Don't go out there empty handed, though."

"I never do." She replied back in amusement. With all said and done, she left the couple alone to continue their conversation, unwilling to stick around and listen to their questions regarding how she and Mason were holding up. She appreciated their concern, but there was a point where she just wanted to be left alone to mull over things.

Sarah and Clementine kept playing their game, unaware of Charlotte as she strolled past, making her way down the stairs towards the front doors. Her hand rested on the hilt of her weapon, an instinctive move that she found herself doing more and more often nowadays. It kept her safe, almost like a security blanket for her, and out there where walkers could pop out of any cover, she wasn't taking any chances. Hand on the handle, she pushed the door open with her shoulder and slipped out of the ski lodge.

The crisp winter air chilled her exposed skin. With the sun shining up above, it was certainly warmer than it was that morning, though not by much given how deep into winter they were. Charlotte shivered momentarily, rubbing her arms through her jacket as she walked further along the deck. Out from the stairs leading down, there were multiple fields stretching out with forests surrounding them, hiding away everything that could've been lurking within. Unnerved, she leaned over the railing for a moment, taking in the silence and the fresh air filling her lungs, a small smile pulling at the corners of her lips. After a few seconds of enjoying the view, she glanced around the corner of the lodge, noticing the huge tower overlooking the valley down where the bridge was.

"Let's go and check it out." She muttered to herself, pushing herself off the railing and instead walking over briskly to the tower. The whole thing seemed sturdy, if only the creaking as the wind blew threw putting the grown woman off slightly. One of her hands gripped the ladder, pulling on it to test it strength, and when she found it able to withstand most of her weight, she nodded in approval and started to climb up.

She didn't dare to look down. On occasion she glanced over at the forest nearby during her ascension, but other than that she kept her eyes firmly planted on the metal prongs jutting out from the tower. Eventually, she reached the top, and sure enough she could see all the way down to the bridge and beyond, even if most of the land was covered in a thick over of black pine trees. Surprisingly, a pair of binoculars had been left up there, likely done so by Matthew for any time someone needed to go up and scout the lands. Picking up the bulky object, she weighed it in her hand momentarily before peering through the glass lenses.

The bridge looked abandoned, not a single soul either dead or alive walking around down below after Nick and Charlotte fought through it. This may had been how Matthew noticed them down there to begin with. Slowly, she scanned the valley itself, worried that she would spot someone coming out of the forests in an instant, especially if that person was Carver himself. She hadn't seen him in person, unsure what he looked like or what the group would do if he somehow tracked them down, but after panicking for a few moments, she forced herself to calm down, repeating that it was nearly impossible for him to appear so soon after they came across the lodge. Everything would be fine.

Lowering the binoculars, she sighed deeply to herself and hung them back on the railing, careful not to accidentally drop them to the ground down below. Up alone at the top of the tower, she took the time to look at the sights, enjoying the way the clouds drifted softly across the clear blue skies, no signs of rain or snow clouds yet, or how the wind blew past and pushed strands of her hair out from in front of her eyes. It was truly peaceful. Awkwardly, she managed to sit down, her long legs dangling over the edge while she leaned against the railing, her head resting between two of them while she stared off into the distance, drifting off into her thoughts.

She didn't focus on what happened or Dylan, or even the group's situation at the moment. Rather, she remembered back to the past, recalling anything that would give her mind a break from all the frantic thoughts constantly plaguing her. Her legs swung gently, moving about in the wind while she remained perfectly still. Sure enough, she was joined by a lone crow. The bird cawed loudly, peering down at her with its beady black eyes, obviously curious with the unmoving figure sharing the tower that it was using as a perch. Charlotte paid no attention to it, rather letting it hop around and caw out to other birds that were resting nearby. Some had reached the ground, pecking at the dirt in hopes of finding worms or insects to eat, while a lone corpse that had been killed nearby was being torn up by some of the scavengers.

Turning her head to get a better look, she reached up for the binoculars above her to get a better look, peering through them at the corpse to see that a lone coyote had appeared, scaring off the few crows that had reached the meal first. Wincing at the sight of its tearing through the decayed flesh, she stifled a gag at the thought of eating something so disgusting. The animal did what it had to so that it would survive. Somewhat, she connected to it on that notion, even if she would never go that far for a meal. After managing to gorge itself on meat, something rustled in the forest, as the coyote perked up and looked in that direction, freezing up momentarily before bolting back into the safety of the forest.

Lowering the binoculars, Charlotte turned her head to see that even her little crow friend had flew off for somewhere else. All alone, she stayed up there for a while, unsure how much time had passed until she heard voices down below, first hushed in fear of catching any unwanted attention. Curiosity got hold of her, Charlotte pulling her legs up and peering over the edge of the tower down below, finding that Clementine and Sarah had slipped out of the lodge and were sneaking around, keeping their voices low as they whispered. Straining to hear, she overheard Sarah mutter. "Are you sure we won't get caught?"

"We aren't gonna make any noise. I don't want to waste bullets." Bullets? What were those two doing?

Wanting to see where this was going, Charlotte remained hidden up above, watching carefully while the two girls walked further along the porch, stopping when they decided they were far enough from the doors. Slowly, Clementine pulled out the gun she often carried around, the sight of it stunning Charlotte as she kept on watching. Almost too easily, Clementine removed the magazine from her gun, pocketing it before handing Sarah the weapon. The older girl seemed unnerved with the gun, but nonetheless started aiming it around while asking Clementine all sorts of questions. "What do I do now?"

"First, you have to remember that it's just a thing."

"What does that mean?"

"I… don't really know." Clementine was clearly confused by the question.

After the small blunder, Sarah turned to the child with the gun still aimed, accidentally aiming it at her. In a panic, Clementine ducked out of the way and scolded her harshly. "Don't do that!"

"S-Sorry!" Sarah gasped, lowering the gun instantly and standing there while Clementine glared at her. Charlotte didn't feel safe letting the two go on like this, quietly slipping down the steps as the others carried on with their private lesson, unaware of the approaching adult due to their backs being turned to her. Finally reaching the wooden floor, Charlotte kept quiet as she walked over, listening intently while Sarah asked. "Where did you learn how to shoot a gun?"

"...My friend taught me." Her voice was quiet, wracked with sorrow and grief that gave Charlotte pause.

Silently, she stood behind them, shaking off the sympathy she felt for the poor child as she instead placed her hands on her hips, calling out in a stern tone. "What do y'all think you're doing?"

She had never seen someone jump so high as Clementine and Sarah did at the realisation that they had been caught. Spinning around, the older of the duo tried to hide the gun they were using behind her back, staring up at Charlotte with a nervous frown. When Sarah spoke, she couldn't help but stutter with the grown woman's eyes staring straight into her own. "W-We weren't doing anything."

"Don't try that with me. I saw the gun." Charlotte revealed, holding her hand out with a frown. "Come on, fork it over."

Clementine and Sarah shared a look before the latter gave in and returned the weapon to Charlotte. With it in hand, she at least gave them a chance to defend themselves as Clementine pointed out. "Sarah wanted to learn. I didn't think it was a big deal."

"Sarah, your dad would hit the roof if he saw you with this. At least you two didn't piss about with actual bullets."

"I just wanted Clem to teach me some stuff. She knows how to do it, and so does Mason… Why can't I?" The question stumped Charlotte, her unable to think of an actual reason for Sarah to not learn how to defend herself. After the arguments with Carlos back at the cabin and on the road, she just wanted to stay out of his way, unwilling to stand another argument on top of simply trying to survive through another day.

After standing there in stunned silence, she couldn't think of a reason and sighed, running her hand through her chopped hair. "Does anyone know you're out here?"

"No, we managed to sneak out when Christa and Omid were talking." Clementine revealed.

Still holding onto the gun, Charlotte nodded softly at that and glanced over her shoulder, noticing the clear are near the wind turbine on the other side of the field. An idea popped into her mind, turning back around and addressing the kids in front of her. "You need to learn how to defend yourself, Sarah. I suppose I could teach you the stuff I know."

"Really?" She sounded excited, eager to learn before a realisation hit her, the giddiness in her face disappearing entirely when she softly asked. "But… what about my dad?"

"Don't worry about him. I can handle any shit he gives me, but running around without knowing how to shoot can get you into serious trouble out there." With that, Charlotte gestured for the duo to follow after her. All three of them walked along the porch, careful not to draw any attention from inside as they made their way onto the field outside of the lodge.

A few picnic tables were scattered around the open space. Passing by, Charlotte noticed a few scratchings etched into the wood, either drawings of hearts or people's initials from the times that living people were still around. Nothing moving was around, none of the living or the dead or even the birds, and so the forest felt eerie and dead, only the wind blowing through being the sole sound around. Charlotte instinctively placed her hand on the weapon, glancing around in case something tried to sneak up on them. When they reached the wind turbine, she calmed down slightly, staring up at the slowly moving blades that supplied the lodge with the necessary power.

From beside her, she overheard Clementine ask. "What's that?"

"It's a wind turbine. This is how Walter and Matthew get the electricity they need for the lights." Charlotte explained, tapping a hand on the smooth metal surface with a smirk. "We used to have a smaller one back on the farm. The power often went out for those living in the countryside, and that lil' baby got us through some nights."

"That sounds cool. We were learning all about renewable energy in school." Sarah revealed, staring up at the wind turbine too. The mention of school made Charlotte nostalgic again, though she instead focused on what they came over to do, tossing the gun slightly and catching it by the end of the barrel while walking towards Sarah.

Holding the end of it for her to grab, she lectured the teenager while she stood there nervously with the gun. "Now, Clem was right when she said to remember that it's just a thing. On its own, it can't hurt you. It's only when someone's on the other end of it is where you gotta be afraid."

"I don't like being afraid." Sarah confessed, looking at the gun in her hands. "You're never afraid. Clem told me about when she saw you and Nick on that bridge, how you fought all those walkers. I wish I could do that."

"Sarah…" She started, leaning forward with a calming smile on her face, hoping that she could at least comfort the depressed teen for if only a moment. When Sarah managed to look up at her, Charlotte confessed softly. "I was afraid. On that bridge, I was scared because I thought I was going to die, and I would never see you guys again. Even adults get scared, but really, that's the only time you can be brave. Do you understand?"

"I guess so." She seemed convinced with the reasoning, returning Charlotte's smile with a warm smile of her own. With that said and done, she stood up again and looked around, finding that there wasn't many things around that they could use as target practice. Raising an eyebrow while thinking, she stared at a nearby tree and hummed, raising her hand to silently order the two children with her to stay put as she approached the tree.

Machete pulled out of its sheath, she scratched out a large X in the bark, chiselling away at it until she was satisfied with the makeshift target. Backing away, she returned her weapon to her side while Clementine came closer, staring at the target before Charlotte held her free hand out, gesturing for something to be passed. "Pass the magazine, Clem."

"I don't have many bullets left." She confessed, though did so regardless when Charlotte kept gesturing for the magazine regardless. Pulling it out of her jacket pocket, she dropped it down into the bandaged hand.

Without a word, Charlotte opened the magazine and removed most of the bullets, taking the gun back from Sarah and checking the chamber, finding another bullet left in there. Satisfied, she pocketed the spare bullets before shoving the magazine back into the gun, cocking it all in a fluid motion as she explained like a professional teaching a student. "Now, what I want you to do is try and hit that target as best you can."

Sarah seemed unsure, but aimed the gun regardless while Charlotte walked behind her, covering her ears to protect it from the loud sound. Suddenly, she noticed Sarah's arms were too stiff, bending them slightly at the elbow before returning her hands to Sarah's ears. Clementine watched from the side, a small smile pulling at her lips when her friend fired the gun. It wasn't as loud as the other guns that they encountered, but the recoil shocked Sarah slightly as she faltered, lowering the gun slightly as all three of them looked at the target. It skimmed through the side of the tree, completely missing the target. Dejectedly, Sarah mumbled. "Dammit. I'm no good at this."

"Nobody's a professional on their first go. Let's keep trying at it." Charlotte pushed, gently lifting the teenager's hands again and moving them more to the left, returning her hands to cover her ears while Sarah tried again.

With each bullet she fired, she got closer and closer to the target. Soon enough, the gun clicked as the magazine appeared empty, ending their lesson for the day as Charlotte removed her hands from the sides of Sarah's head. Taking the gun back, she filled the magazine with the bullets she had in her pocket and cocked it again, passing the weapon back to Clementine. She took it silently, pleased to have her gun returned to her when she shoved it in her pocket. The lesson went well enough, Charlotte feeling a sense of pride with Sarah as she praised the teen. "That was a pretty good try at it. It ain't no moving target, and I would never want you thrown into a situation like that, but we may have to find something that moves for you to practice on."

"That sounds dangerous." Sarah confessed.

"It does, but that doesn't make it any less necessary to learn." She understood Sarah's hesitation in facing something as dangerous as a walker, and she wouldn't willingly throw her into the deep end just for educational purposes, but that didn't mean that Sarah didn't need to learn like they did. Glancing around, she hummed when an idea popped into her head. "I could always find you a crippled walker to practice on. Those things couldn't catch a three legged tortoise that was flipped over onto its shell."

"Did you practice on moving targets, Clem?" Sarah asked, looking over at the child who had been silent all this time.

Surprise flashed over her face, before Clementine glanced away with a deep frown. "No… The first real thing I shot was another person."

"Woah… Why did you shoot them?"

"Sarah." Charlotte scolded, narrowing her eyes at the curious teen. She was surprised with the scolding, glancing between her and Clementine before realising how downtrodden the little girl looked, guilt clear in her face when Charlotte continued softly. "You don't have to talk about things you don't want to, Clementine. We're all allowed some privacy."

Clementine didn't reply to that, but rather nodded solemnly while the adult of the group frowned deeply. Even though she was still so young, she showed none of that child-like enthusiasm anymore. Slowly, Charlotte approached Clementine, kneeling down while putting both hands on her shoulders, keeping her voice gentle and soft as she carried on trying to comfort the child. "I know what happened to your friends was terrible, and you're gonna feel like this for a long time, but trust me when I say that none of what happened was your fault. You're still so young, and you may not be able to see that just yet, but maybe when you get older… it'll make more sense, okay?"

Amber eyes flickered about in thought, her mind reeling with the emotions and turmoils that were brewing deep inside her, but sure enough, she nodded faintly and replied. "Okay."

"Great." Charlotte began, getting back up to her feet as she then addressed both of them. "Let's get back inside. No doubt someone's gonna have noticed you guys disa-"

"What do you think you three are doing?!" That was Carlos' voice. Stunned, Charlotte froze in place, noticing the latino storming towards them with anger clear on his face. On instinct, she held her arm out in front of Sarah and Clementine, the two younger survivors shuffling closer to her to try and hide from the man's ire.

Charlotte, meanwhile, kept a hardened expression on her face when Carlos closed the distance between them, angrily demanding answers. "I saw you all out where firing off bullets! What were you thinking?!"

"Back the fuck off, Carlos." She warned, maintaining eye contact with him even though she felt that pang of fear hitting her in the stomach. Brushing it off, she stood her ground, looking under her arm at Clementine and Sarah while explaining. "I was just going over some lessons with Clementine and Sarah."

"I told you, she's not ready to learn about all of this!"

"But… Clementine and the others do, Dad." Sarah piped up, coming to Charlotte's rescue as she slowly shuffled out from behind her friend. The grown woman raised her eyebrows in shock, watching the timid teenager approaching her father's side while nervously adding. "I wanted to learn."

"Sarah. You know that this stuff is just too much for you to handle. It's better for you if you stay away from this, and _them._ " The last word was spat out at Charlotte.

That was the final straw. Eyes widening in rage, she jammed a finger in the man's chest, finally letting rip after dealing with nearly a week of his harsh words and condescending attitude. "Fuck off, Carlos! Sarah needs to know this, Clementine needs to know it, every kid that has to live in this world needs to know how to defend themselves! You may not like it, and neither do I, but at least I admit that this is the only way for them to protect themselves and the group!"

"You don't know what she needs, you are not her mother!"

"No. I'm not." All the rage boiling inside turned cold. Lowering her hand, Charlotte's voice dropped as she looked over at Sarah, never moving her gaze from the teen as she confessed. "But that doesn't mean I wouldn't give my life to protect her, and the same goes for Clementine and Mason. Because they're the future of this world, Carlos. What are you gonna do when you finally go and Sarah's left without someone to look after her?"

"W-What? My dad wouldn't leave me. He wouldn't. I-I…" Sarah trailed off. It was then that Charlotte realised her mistake, staring down in horror while the teenager girl panicked over the scenario she had painted out. Her shoulder shook violently, short and sharp gasps for air hinting that she was on the verge of attack.

"Sarah, it's okay, sweetie." Carlos muttered in a calm tone, trying to put a hand on her shoulder before she bolted. Before any of them could react, she was running away from them, making her way to the lodge just as the others in the group came out to see the commotion.

Charlotte there in silence, unable to form any words with the shock of what happened leaving her reeling. Carlos lowered his hand to his side, slowly turning her with narrowed eyes filled with rage, causing her to back off slightly while he coldly snapped at her. "Stay away from her. Both of you."

"Carlos… Come on, Clem's just a kid." Her pleading words were ignored. With the warning said, the doctor turned back around and went back to the lodge, ignoring the curious questions from Omid as both he and Christa had made their way halfway across the field. Shocked by what happened, Charlotte led Clementine back to the couple, letting the child stay with her guardians while she herself kept walking, ignoring Christa's questions. No doubt the youngest of the group would fill them in on the much needed details.

Even Nick had appeared to see what was going on. Standing on the porch by the door, he said nothing as Charlotte passed him, only pausing for a moment when he broke the silence between them. "She'll calm down. Just give her time."

"I really put my foot in it this time, Nick." She muttered back, carrying on into the lodge without another word being uttered. Those that were left outside quickly went in, having learned about what happened from Clementine.

Meanwhile, Charlotte decided to keep to herself, sitting down on the couch watching the fire that was still burning. Sam kept beside her, whining softly occasionally to let her know how he was feeling, though she comforted the troubled canine with a few pets to his head. His fur was sticky with dried mud and blood, some tufts stuck together no matter how hard she tried to separate the strands. Pulling back her hand to crunch her nose in disgust, she wiped it as best she could on the couch cushion, slowly returning her hand to what little space she had left on her lap, especially since Sam had shoved his head and one of his paws on it in a desperate search for cuddles.

"Needy boy." She chuckled, amused by his antics as she scratched his cheek affectionately. Pleased with the action, his tail wagged softly behind him, smacking against the back of the couch on occasion while they sat there relaxing. No one disturbed them, rather going on to do their own thing while she sat there mulling over the events of the day. If there was one thing she didn't like about staying in one place, it was that it gave her time to actually think about the past, and all she wanted was to just push that away and focus on the now.

The winter sun didn't last long in the sky. By the time it was dipping behind the thick cover of trees, she was greeted by Mason, the teenage boy having come out of his room finally after spending all day alone. Saying nothing, she stared up at him, trying to think of something to say after the painful conversation they had before. He said nothing, staring down at the ground with his hand gripping on the lower part of his other arm. Nervously, he mumbled. "I overheard what happened outside with Sarah. Are you okay?"

"Y-Yeah, it was just her dad. I think I really fucked up there though. Now he won't even let Sarah talk to me or Clementine, he thinks we don't understand what she needs." The mention of Carlos made her face scrunch in anger, clearly pissed off to Mason as he shared her sentiment. "And you? Are you doing alright?"

"...No." He confessed, unable to meet his sister's eyes anymore. Charlotte knew as much, not expecting him to bounce back on his feet so soon after Dylan's death, but it filled her with hope that he at least admitted that he wasn't fine. It made it easier for her to be there for him when he eventually wanted her to be.

Patting the empty space next to her on the couch, she turned her body slightly to face Mason as he walked around them, sitting down on the couch with his hands resting in his lap. Saddened, he finally managed to meet her gaze once more and opened up fully. "Do you remember when Dylan always shouted at us after that car crash? He was always so angry all the time, and no matter what, I couldn't help him… When you came back and told me that he was dead, I didn't want to believe you. I thought it was some sort of fucked up joke and he would come out of hiding and it'd all be okay."

She didn't interrupt him, watching as he roughly wiped away tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. "And it wasn't a joke. After that I got why he was so angry all the time. I just can't get these thoughts out of my head, that maybe if he wasn't with you he would still be alive."

"Bud… you blame me for what happened?"

Mason's face fell at how hurt Charlotte sounded. She didn't mean to let it come out with her words, but she couldn't help it, stunned with how her last family member was turning against her. A few seconds passed by, and his face turned cold when he nodded in response. "I do. I don't want to think like this, but I can't help but feel that he would still be alive if he didn't stay with you."

"I…" She couldn't help but think that he was right. That self doubt and hatred came bubbling up from the surface, her face betraying what she felt when she saw Mason look away in guilt, unable to stomach seeing his sister like this. Without saying anything else, he stood up and started walking away, his back to her as she quietly called out. "Mason?"

He paused for a moment, his back still to her as she sat there, tears welling in her eyes while he shook his head and kept walking. Charlotte was left alone. Carlos didn't want her or Clementine around Sarah, Mason blamed her for their brother's death, and the group were still being hunted down by Carver. For once since she left her group back in Texas, she felt truly defeated, slumping back in the couch while Sam watched silently. A soft whine escaped his throat, but she didn't respond to his nudges and licks, losing all feeling as he lied down next to her, refusing to leave.

Finally, tears fell down her face, dripping down onto her hands that rested on her lap. She didn't move, even when the others had started to gather around for dinner. She could hear muttering from the dining area, but no one came over in fear that she would brush them away, rather tucking into their food with the heavy air around them. Her stomach growled loudly, but she ignored it, finding no strength in her to even get up and walk over to the long dinner tables that her group and hosts had sat down at. Sam eventually left her when Christa called his name, wanting to feed him for the night. Hearing him scamper away with his clawed feet tapping against the wooden floor, she inhaled deeply and decided to get up to at least have something to eat, even if she didn't feel that hungry anymore.

It was then that a bowl was held in front of her. Staring at it in surprise, she blinked a few times before shifting her gaze to the person who brought it to her. Walter stood there, a faint smile on his face as he held another half empty bowl in his hand, waiting for Charlotte to take her food before finally piping up. "I know it's been a hard day today. You shouldn't really be alone right now."

"Mmm." She hummed, taking the bowl from Walter and starting to push her spoon around the mush. Even though she appreciated his kind actions, she also wasn't feeling much up to holding a conversation with anyone at the moment, though that didn't stop her host as he sat down on the couch beside her.

"Mason doesn't mean what he said." He started. The way he phrased it made Charlotte want to scoff and angrily demand to know what the teenage boy meant, but she refrained from doing so, rather chewing on a spoonful of food while he continued. "He's just going through a hard time at a difficult moment in his life. It may had been a long time ago, but I too remember how difficult it was being a teenager, and I'm sure you do too. Add into this world falling apart and I understand why he's fallen down."

"The worst thing is, Walter… Mason's right. I asked Dylan to stay behind to help me out with that room. If I left it alone, if I was more careful and watched my surroundings… I just…" She inhaled painfully, putting her bowl of food on the table and leaning forward, holding her head in her hands. "He'll never trust me again. I made a promise and I broke it."

"What happened was not your fault either, Charlotte. Accidents happen. As much as I hate to admit it, people die and there's very little we can do to change it. All that you can do now is be there for each other, to learn from this loss and keep moving forward." He explained, placing a hand on her shoulder blades while she remained bent over. Her chest ached with each breath she took in, the overwhelming urge to cry pushed down with company around her, and when she finally lowered her hands, she quickly wiped away the tears that managed to form in her eyes.

"I appreciate what you're trying to say, but I'm not so sure Mason even wants me around anymore. Maybe he'll be better off without me."

"That's not true." A new voice called out. Charlotte jumped suddenly, turning to find that Christa had came over to check up on her friend. The pregnant survivor watched them with sympathy clear on her face, walking over to take a seat on the arm of the couch, careful not to knock the bowl of food over. "I've seen how you were with your brothers, Charlie. You gave everything to protect them, and Mason knows that. Right now he just needs time to figure all this out, but I think he still wants you around for him when he finally figures it all out."

"I'll always be there for him, but… it's been hard."

"You don't have to do it alone." Walter chimed in, looking up at Christa with a smile. "You have your friends with you. People are truly the most important thing for someone in this world, and both you and Mason need them more than ever."

"Come on, sit at the table with us. You need to eat." Christa pushed. With the pep talk helping somewhat, Charlotte focused on Walter's words and nodded, feeling her spirits lifted up as she got to her feet and followed her friend back to the group sitting in the hall room. Food in hand, she took a seat next to Omid, finding Clementine and Mason chatting to each other about something, though the conversation died slightly when he spotted his sister joining them.

Neither of them said anything to each other, and it was hard on her to be like this, but with Walter's enthusiastic words echoing in the back of her mind, she decided to keep them close and give her brother the time he needed to process his confusing emotions. When he was sure of what to do, she knew that she would be there for him regardless. Now was not that time. So, she ate her food quietly while Omid went on about the trip he took with Christa shortly before the plague, amusingly leaving in the parts where he lost the key to their hotel room and as such was forced to sleep outside in the rain.

"I'm sure after doing that for months now, you're used to sleeping it rough." Matthew joked, causing everyone to laugh around the table while Omid grinned bashfully.

"You'd be surprised. Christa wouldn't talk to me for days after that."

"He's still in the doghouse for it." She joked back. Charlotte laughed quietly at that, chewing on another spoonful of food as she leaned against her hand, listening when Christa asked their hosts. "So, you guys must have some stories to share with us?"

Matthew smirked at the question, eyeing Walter up before starting to explain a story. "Well, one time Walter and I were climbing up Mount Kilimanjaro while on holiday, and he accidentally-"

"They don't need to know about that one." Walter quickly interrupted, one of his hands covering his face in embarrassment.

"Oh. Well, what about when we came to this ski lodge and you spilt hot chocolate all over your-"

"No."

"He was playing music one time on his radio and one of the cassette players started playing-"

"Matthew, there's _children_ here." Walter was mortified with each one of Matthew's stories. His boyfriend grinned mischievously, though he did give up trying to reveal one to the group with Walter's constant interruptions, leaving Charlotte to wonder what exactly happened. Content with knowing that they were likely never found out, she finished up her food and tossed the spoon back in the bowl, leaning against the table when Walter suddenly asked Sarah. "You enjoying that book, Sarah?"

"Yeah, it's pretty cool." She nodded, though she quickly added in a dejected tone. "But it's the only book I have and I've finished it four times. I kinda wish I had something new."

"Hey, I have some old books in the hut by the bridge. I can go and grab them for you." Matthew piped up, smiling happily when Sarah perked up at his suggestion. Standing up from the table, he glanced over at Charlotte and offered. "You wanna come down with me? Could use someone watching my back out there, and I need to check the parameter for any walkers that are getting too close to the lodge."

Shrugging, she agreed to his offer with a nonchalant tone. "Sure. Could use the walk anyway."

"Awesome. We won't be long." Matthew addressed the others, lingering for a moment when Walter held onto his hand. Saying nothing, he smirked and left the table to get ready to head out, leaving Charlotte the time she needed to get everything ready before they would leave for the shack.

"Be back soon guys." She promised, getting up from the table when she noticed that neither Nick nor Pete were present at the dinner table. Confused as to where they could be, she decided to quickly check up on them before she left, worried for the health of the injured survivor. Walking away from the table, she briskly moved through the living area to the stairs, hearing hushed voices at the top when she reached it.

Pausing for a moment, she tried to make out what they were saying, but it was too quiet for her to distinguish the words, so instead she jogged up the stairs quickly. Matthew likely wouldn't want to wait around forever. By the time she reached the top, she found Pete still laying on the couch, looking worse than he did that morning. Nick was kneeling by the couch, glancing over his shoulder to see who it was who joined with them, though saying nothing when he turned his attention back to his coughing uncle. Peering through half lidded eyes, the older survivor made her out standing there, calling out in a raspy voice. "Hey there, Charlotte."

"You look like shit, Pete." She confessed, approaching them slowly with worry gnawing away at her innards. When she came close enough, she stopped dead in her tracks, crossing her arms over her chest with worry written all over her face. "I came up to check on both of you. I was just gonna go to the hut by the bridge with Matthew to grab some things, and then check the parameter."

"Sounds like a plan. You didn't have to come and see how I'm doing."

"No, but that don't mean I didn't want to. I'm worried for you." She confessed, glancing down at the unresponsive Nick as she asked him softly. "You okay there, Nick?"

"I'm fine." His response was just like the one back in Eden. Quick, short, and did very little to actually convince her that he was fine. Pete seemed unconvinced as well, but refrained from saying anything as he continued their conversation.

"When you get back, we may have some things to discuss… with everyone." The way he voice that made Charlotte's stomach drop, the idea of what would entail in that conversation clear as day to everyone involved. Still, she didn't want to start any arguments and nodded silently, earning a grateful smile from her friend as he grunted in pain. "Ah, shit…"

When she tried to come closer to get a better look at his injury, he stopped her with a slightly raised hand, shaking his head as he spoke through gritted teeth. "You got better things to do than worry about me. Go on, now. We can talk when you get back."

"Alright… I won't be too long." She promised, taking a few steps back before finally leaving them alone. Nick watched her go, saying nothing as he turned his attention back to Pete, the conversation they were having sparking back up with more heated words being exchanged. Ignoring them to let them sort it out themselves, Charlotte kept walking down the stairs, noticing Clementine and Mason having made a small fort out of cushions from the couch.

Smiling at how much fun they looked like they were having, she walked down the rest of the stairs, watching them acting out their imaginary stories before calling out. "Y'all look like you're having fun there."

"Mason is showing me how he made forts when he was younger. There's a password, so others can't come in if we say no." Clementine revealed, treating the matter very seriously, though the sly little smirk on her face made Charlotte laugh to herself.

"Well, I hope I can join in when I get back."

"Sure. If you know the password." Mason pointed out, having fun placing a couple of heavy objects on top of the blanket he found to stop it from falling off, hanging it off the back of the couch with a chair to prop it up. It actually was starting to look like fun, even with the way Mason was trying to ignore her standing there, the conversation they had before still fresh in the back of her mind. Keeping it down, she placed her hands on hips and smirked playfully.

"Clem, do you think I'm cool enough to know the password?" She asked slyly, enjoying the annoyed stare she received from her brother at the question.

Glancing between the two siblings, the youngest of the trio sat there cross legged on a large cushion, thinking deeply about whether or not she should tell the grown woman the password. Before she could answer, they were disturbed by Matthew's sudden appearance. He had already pulled his hood up, hiding his messy black hair and most of his upper face, though she could see that devilish smirk on his lips when he spotted the fort that the kids had built. Holding onto the strap of his rifle, he came closer and pointed at it while complimenting it. "Hey, cool fort."

"Careful. You need a password to get in and you're not as cool as me." Charlotte shot back.

Matthew paused for a moment, before turning his head and replying in fake offense. "Hey!"

"I think you're pretty cool. Not as much as Omid, but like… a close second." Clementine joined in.

"Okay, so I'm third then?" Charlotte asked, waiting for a response while the little girl thought about it. Slowly, she shook her head in response. "Fourth? Fifth? Come on, I can't be sixth."

"You ain't even in the top five. This is Fort Cool." Matthew joked, gesturing at the half built fort while Clementine and Mason laughed together at his ribbing. Charlotte took it all on the chin, however, even joining in the laughter and good vibes that the conversation had. Still, they had to go and check out the hut, the grown woman leaving the kids alone to play as she dragged Matthew away, making her way to the doors while chuckling deeply.

"Come on. Let's go and find those books for Sarah."


End file.
